Tis the Season
by KelliP
Summary: Castle helps Beckett countdown the twelve days left until Christmas. Much merriment, gifts, and surprises ensue.
1. Twelve

'**Tis the Season**

* * *

_**A/N:**__ A chapter posted every day until the twelve days are over. Posting this now rather than the twelve days leading up to Christmas because I'm heading away for the holidays. Enjoy._

* * *

**Twelve Days until Christmas**

* * *

Beckett lets out an exhausted sigh as she leans back in her desk chair, feet stretched out underneath her desk and hands high above her head. The week has been a long one- double homicide, not fun. Especially when there are less than two weeks until Christmas.

Another glance at the clock tells her there's still an hour before she can justify knocking off for the weekend. Beckett presses her lips together, suppressing a groan as her eyes drop to the paperwork on her desk. Double the victims mean double the paperwork, which is definitely not a way she'd prefer spending her Friday afternoons. Even so, she hunches her body back over the desk and picks up the pen that sits ready for her to continue.

She's not given the chance.

The soft whisper of voices pick up around her, the soft dropping of pens onto desks as people forgo whatever mundane paperwork they've been working on in favour of chatting with each other about _something_. Beckett lifts her head to find Ryan and Esposito frowning as they stretch awkwardly out of their seat without really rising off the chair, eyes squinting as they look over her shoulder.

"… making us look bad," she catches Esposito hiss. Then Ryan catches her eye and promptly slaps the back of his hand against his partner's arm, ending the conversation with a low warning. Her own eyebrows knit together then, the confusing creasing her forehead for only a moment before everything suddenly becomes clear.

"Delivery for Katherine Beckett?"

She spins around at the sound of her name, eyes expectant as she searches the scene in front of her. Her jaw drops.

He's really done it this time.

The deliveryman stands before her, holding in his hands a slim glass vase full of a dozen long-stemmed red roses. Tied around the curve of the vase is deep red organza ribbon, the edges trimmed with a thin stripe of gold sateen.

"Miss Beckett?"

The deliveryman's voice snaps her from her thoughts. He stretches his arms toward her a little further, silently insisting she take the roses from his hands.

Right.

She rises from her chair, pressing her lips together as they awkwardly exchange the vase into her hands. "You need me to sign anything?" she asks, lowering the long flowers to peer over the top of the buds.

The man shakes his head. "All taken care of. Have a Happy Christmas, ma'am." With a polite nod, he walks out, leaving Beckett and the rest of the bullpen to stare at the blossoming roses in her hands.

Her forehead creasing as she frowns, Beckett shifts the vase into one arm, clearing enough room in the corner of her desk to set the flowers down. Her eyes roam over the perfectly curled petals of the roses, down their long, manicured stems, until they rest once again on the bow tied neatly around the crystal vase. There's a card dangling off the ribbon- bright gold, to match the trimming, a picture of a traditional toy soldier beating an unknown rhythm against a drum on the front- but she doesn't need to open it to know whom these are from.

She snaps it off anyway.

_There are twelve days left until Christmas. Count them down with me? Here are twelve red roses to start it off, because I didn't think you'd appreciate twelve drummers drumming being sent to the precinct._

A smile cracking on the corner of her lips, she shakes her head. Only Castle.

Beckett considers leaving the roses on her desk for the final hour of her shift when a she catches sight of her boss out of the corner of her eye. Gates is glaring at her from her office, the thin slits of her eyes matching the slits of the open blinds. Obviously, she's not amused a simple flower delivery has put such an end to everyone's work.

Rethinking her idea, Beckett quickly averts her gaze. The paperwork she's yet to finish is hastily collected into one neat pile, then deposited into the bottom drawer of her desk to be locked away for the weekend. Rolling her chair so it tucks neatly underneath her desk, Beckett fingers curl underneath her winter coat. She lifts it off the back of the chair and pulls it tight around her before wrapping the red and creams scarf she knows Castle loves around her neck.

"I think I'm going to take off," she calls out to the boys.

Ryan nods and smiles at her. "We'll see you tomorrow night," he responds.

She receives no such response from Esposito. The detective is already hunched over the computer keyboard and searching the web for local flower stores, muttering something under his breath about _flowers_ and _Lanie_ and _that damn writer making him look bad_.

Beckett chuckles and gives Ryan a wave before clutching the roses in her hands and heading for the elevator. As she waits for the car to arrive, she dips her nose into the bright red bulbs. The fresh, floral scent wafts up her nostrils, and she can't stop the smile from curling upwards on her lips.

Christmastime is here.

* * *

The two-block journey from the parking garage to the loft is brisk, the winter weather wrapping around her and tingling her chilled nose. With no hands to rub against her cheeks that are surely pink from the chill in the air, Beckett huffs out a warm breath, fogging the air in front of her face. Another breeze picks up then, whips around her, and so she picks up her pace.

With her keys still in her hand from when she'd stepped out of her car, Beckett shifts the vase once into the crook of one arm as she unlocks the door to their home. The elegant green and red and gold wreath that hangs at eye-level swings back as the door opens easily on its hinges. The delightful aroma is the first thing she notices, the sugary smell of Christmas cookies wafting up her nostrils and causing her mouth to water.

Castle, ever the metrosexual, has been baking.

Beckett steps through the doorframe then, eyes skipping over the sparkling lights and tinsel that already hang as she searches for Castle. Right on cue, he pads out of the study, the clack of her heels against the floorboards letting him know she's home. The corners of his eyes are crinkled and cheeks are lifted as he sports the dopey grin on his face that she loves. And when his eyes fall down to the flowers in her hand, his eyebrows lift high on his forehead in question.

"Should I be concerned about whatever thoughtful, loving, handsome man gave those to you?" he asks playfully.

Face schooled, she narrows her eyes at him. "Do you not remember the last time you had something delivered to the precinct?" Beckett questions him. She is, of course, referring to the time not two weeks before when Castle had tried to have a ten-foot Christmas tree delivered for the break room.

"This is different. The flowers are just for _you_," he explains carefully. "Besides, they're small. _Much_ smaller than the tree, might I add."

Crossing the room in a few quick strides, Beckett slides the roses to serve as a centrepiece for the dining table. She nods absently while she does so, as if not quite believing him, and doesn't relent just yet. "You know, I'm pretty sure the twelve days of Christmas begin _after_ Christmas Day, not before."

"Yes, but this is a count _down_," he disputes.

"I'm also sure the song starts at the first day of Christmas, not the twelfth."

Ever the child, Castle pouts and grumbles. "Can't you just appreciate I'm trying to bring a little Christmas festivity into our lives? Who would've thought Katherine Beckett would be such a Grinch…"

She shoots him a classic Beckett look. "Just because I know what's appropriate for the workplace doesn't mean I'm a Grinch."

He shrugs indifferently. "Oh, well, I can take the flowers back then, if you'd pref-"

"No," she says quickly, giving in. Beckett steps towards him them, snaking her arms around his waist and leaning up to press her lips to the stubble on the underside of his jaw. "Thank you for my roses, Castle," she murmurs, lips brushing against his skin when she doesn't pull away. "They're beautiful."

He captures her lips then, tongue sweeping over her lips. Beckett sighs as her mouth parts and relaxes into his embrace. His fingers skirt across the hem of her blouse before sliding up underneath to dance across the bare skin of her back. The shiver that shoots through her only encourages him, and she finds herself quickly pinned between his body and the back of the couch.

"You know," he whispers suggestively, his voice dipping low. "The house is empty. How about you show me just how much you love the roses?"

Hmm. Yes.

'Tis the season, after all.

* * *

_Twelve long-stemmed roses._


	2. Eleven

**Eleven Days until Christmas**

* * *

Beckett wakes slowly the following morning. Her eyes remain closed, heavy with sleep, her mind still foggy from the pleasant dream. Like a cat, she arches her back, stretches her hands up towards the headboard as she tries to awaken the muscles of her body. Even with Castle's extensive heating system, the cool December air prickles her skin, sends a shiver down her spine. Beckett immediately snuggles back down underneath the heavy feather comforter, nuzzling the pillow and sighing peacefully.

She hears Castle chuckle softly beside her, feels his arm snake around her waist, and he tugs her across the sinfully soft sheets and into his embrace. His lips find her forehead as her fingers curl against his chest, nails gently scratching his bare skin. His fingers begin their own ministrations, trailing up the ridges of her spine, sweeping across her collarbone, before brushing back down over the curve of her hip. Beckett hums in contentment, the whorls of his fingers leaving her skin tingling in their wake.

"We should get up," he tells her, his breath hot as it washes over her forehead.

She shakes her head against his shoulder in protest. "No. Happy here."

"We've got a Christmas party to finish organising."

Beckett's forehead creases as her brows knit together in a frown. "You were supposed to do that yesterday."

There's a pause. "Uh-"

A soft groan escapes her lips, but she's not really mad. She knew he'd get nothing done. Castle is always such a procrastinator.

"In my defence, I _did_ put up most of the decorations," he tries to come back from the hole he's already dug, but it only fuels her taunting.

She squints up at him then, managing to open her eyelids just enough to throw a classic Detective Beckett glare at him. "And the rest of the day?"

Castle presses his lips together guiltily, deciding silence is in his best interests right now.

"That's what I thought," she mumbles, pressing her face back against his warm chest. With the city surprisingly quiet outside, her eyelids droop once again. Muscles relaxing, she lets sleep succumb her once again, and has almost drifted back into the land of the dreaming when Castle's voice breaks through the silence.

"We really should get up."

Ugh. He's relentless.

"You're really protesting against staying in bed?" She thinks this might be a first for him. Especially when she's already naked and stretched against him.

"There's… a- a lot to be done," he mumbles, his mind side-tracked as he obviously re-thinks his priorities.

Beckett decides to give him another enticing offer. Angling her head, she presses a hot kiss to the crook of his neck. Her lips linger, breath warm against his skin as she rolls against him, slides her long, bare legs against his. She feels Castle heat up with desire, her lips twitching upwards as they skim across his skin. With one push, she rises swiftly, the comforter falling down her back as she throws a leg over his hip to straddle him.

Forgetting about the winter air, she shivers. Castle tugs her down so she lazes across his chest, his large hands warm as they stretch over her back. With a wink, he grins playfully.

"Looks like you need some warming up."

* * *

Castle approaches her after lunch, a brown cake-box in his hand that's tied shut with the same ribbon wrapped around the vase of her twelve roses. She presses her lips together, containing the smile that threatens to spread. Apparently, when he'd asked to count down the days left until Christmas, he left out the part about a gift every day.

But the joyful twinkle in his eyes and childish glee on his face is not something she's going to take away.

"You know what day eleven is?" he asks her.

"Eleven pipers piping," Beckett responds without pause. She doesn't see how that fits into a box, but this is Castle. He would have thought of something.

"Right. Well, I had to be a little creative, so-"

With that, he passes her the box. Sitting on the sofa, she balances it carefully on her thighs. At a nod from Castle, she reaches for the ribbon, untying it ever so slowly because she _knows_ how much Castle hates it when she doesn't tear into a present. His right knee bounces in uncontained excitement and fingers tap a staccato rhythm on the leg that manages to keep still until she finally pulls open the lid.

Inside are the Christmas cookies she'd smelled baking yesterday, but never saw and had forgotten about the moment Castle had pushed her up against the couch. There's an assortment of shapes, each one to do with Christmas. Snowmen, reindeer, stockings, candy canes, Christmas trees- even a Santa- all litter the box. Each one is extensively decorated in the usual red and green and white Christmas colours, the Christmas tree even hosting decorative silver baubles.

"Like I said, I had to get creative. Eleven pipers piping isn't something I thought you'd want to wake up to early on a Saturday morning."

"About as much as I would have appreciated you sending twelve drummers to the precinct."

He nods. "Right. So, I baked eleven cookies, and _piped_ icing as decoration."

With another glance at the cookies worthy of a high-end bakery, Beckett arches a disbelieving eyebrow. "You really made these?"

"Oh, ye of little faith." Castle shakes his head in amusement. "Yes, this was all me. Alexis and I have competitions every year- you know this. You picked _her_ as the winner last year, when mine were clearly more worthy of winning."

"Yeah, because I thought you'd cheated."

He clutches at his heart in mock hurt. "How can you still have so little faith in my cooking abilities?"

"You almost set the apartment on fire last week!" she exclaims.

Castle pauses. "Uh, right." He cringes at the memory of the rising flames, unwilling to be extinguished as his roast dinner had burnt to a crisp.

Beckett chuckles under her breath, amused now the threat has passed. Reaching into the box, her fingers grasp a candy cane shaped cookie. She bites into it without delay, licking the crumbs from her lips. A moan vibrates in her throat as the sugary cookie melts in her mouth. "Not bad, Castle."

With a proud, childish grin on his face, Castle tries to sneak his hand into the box still on her lap. Beckett slaps at his hand playfully.

"Hey!" he exclaims, rubbing the back of his hand where she struck him.

"I though these were mine?" She arches an eyebrow, almost daring him to question her.

"I don't get any?"

"Like you haven't got more stashed somewhere in the pantry."

He shakes his head, eyes wide and honest. "It wouldn't fit the countdown if I made any more. There are only eleven."

She shrugs, popping the rest of the cookie into her mouth. "Too bad."

"I don't even get to _taste_ my creations?"

"I never said that," Beckett teases before slanting her lips over his and swirling her tongue with the taste of Christmas around his.

* * *

By eleven, the party is in full swing. Castle has the Christmas carols blaring from the speakers- everything from _Jingle Bells_ to _Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree_. Beckett can tell the eggnog has been a big hit, everyone already loose as they dance in the open space at the base of the staircase. From her perch in the kitchen, her eyes scan the crowd, searching for Castle- wherever he's gone. She doesn't think she's ever seen him consume so much alcohol before, and it's still early. She's just praying he has enough fuel in him to keep going the rest of the night and not pass out mid-party.

"Girl, you need to get some more eggnog into you," Lanie tells her as she stumbles into the kitchen. She tries to send Beckett an insistent look, but her eyes are already heavy with the alcoholic haze, and she has to lean her weight against the kitchen counter to rest.

"I'm good," Beckett responds, lips twitching up at her friend's drunken state.

"Kate, it's Christmastime," Lanie protests again, taking it upon herself to reach for an empty glass and pour one for Beckett as she refills her own. "Don't be a killjoy. Have a few drinks. Let go."

She scowls at Lanie's accusation that she's some sort of bore. "Someone needs to remain sober enough to keep everything under control- let the caters out soon, say goodbye to the guests. And judging from the way Castle and Ryan are playing with the reindeer statue like it's a rocket ship, that someone needs to be me."

With a note of laughter then, Beckett shakes her head in amusement as she watches Castle's odd behaviour, finally spotting him across the room. Such a child sometimes.

"All right. Well, more for me, I suppose." Lanie picks up the two glasses, clinking them together and taking a long sip from each before wandering off.

Beckett laughs again, following her out of the kitchen in search ofCastle. She heads for where he'd just been standing by the coat closet, pushing her way through the sea of people, smiling politely but shaking her head at the people who try and coax her into dancing. When she finally pushes through the crowd and out into the small space by the entranceway, Castle has already disappeared.

Suddenly he's at her back, crowding into her with his heavy weight. His hands circle around her waist, skimming across her stomach, and she shivers under the touch of his fingertips. Beckett feels his lips drop to the skin exposed at her neck, sucking lightly. Then his hands begin to wander, not at all appropriate for the company they have.

"Castle…" she scolds him. Beckett tries to twist away, but he catches her, hands pressing at the small of her back as he tugs her against his chest.

"Mistletoe," is all he murmurs before covering her lips with his.

* * *

_Eleven piped Christmas cookies._


	3. Ten

**Ten Days until Christmas**

* * *

Beckett is already in their bedroom as Castle waves goodbye to the final few guests- the group of writers, of all people. It's nearing on four in the morning, and hosting Castle's annual Christmas party has left her completely exhausted. Her movements are sluggish as she slips out of the festive red and gold cocktail dress and into one of Castle's old shirts to sleep in, then trudges with slow footsteps into the bathroom. She's just wiping the last traces of her makeup off her face when Castle stumbles into the bedroom.

"Y'have fun t'night?" he mumbles, leaning against the frame of the door for support.

She chuckles. "_You_ look like you certainly did." She can smell the brandy on his breath all the way where she stands by the sink. In all the years she's known him, she's never seen him this drunk.

Castle hums and nods his heavy head. "Sure did." He tries to take a step towards her then, but his legs are wobbly from the alcohol, and he half-trips into the counter. Beckett lunges for him, hoisting him back up. Still, the minor setback of not quite being able to stand doesn't discourage him. Castle's hands wander, groping her rear, lips pressing wetly to her collarbone as his head droops.

Beckett shakes her head in amusement. "Okay. I think it's time we get you into bed."

The ten steps to the bed are slow and careful. He's almost dead weight, not even bothering to hold himself upright anymore, simply leaning on her for support. Seeing as it's the first time he's ever been like this (and unfortunately _not_ the first time he's had to carry her), Beckett grits her teeth, forces them forward until she can drop him completely ungracefully onto the mattress. He doesn't even make an attempt to sit upright, instead twisting as he falls to land flat on his back.

The black dress shoes come off first, dropping with a soft thud onto the rug. With a kick, they slide under the bed, so neither will trip on them if they wake in the middle of the night. The deep red shirt he wears is next, her fingers working the small buttons until she can slide the material off his shoulders. Last of all (but much to Castle's delight) are his pants. He smirks at her as Beckett reaches for his belt buckle, jolting as her fingers brush across his abdomen. She ignores him, slipping the leather belt out of the loops before she drags his dress pants off his legs.

Once Castle is left in only his boxers and white undershirt, Beckett pulls back the sheet, awkwardly forcing him up off the mattress (a feat she didn't think he'd manage) while she shimmies it down. Folding it neatly at the foot of the bed, she turns back to find him propped up on one elbow, eyebrow arched as he watches her. And then, ever the child, he pats the spot on the sheets beside him.

"You going to join me?"

She snots. "I don't think so."

"Oh, come _onnn_, Kate," he slurs out, the words blending together inelegantly. "It's Christmastime. I promise I've been a good boy."

Beckett has to hold the bubble of laughter. "Tell you what- if you're still awake by the time I'm finished getting ready for bed, you're on."

Castle grins at her, taking on the promise. Pressing her lips together to stop the amused smile from spreading, she turns away, heading back to the bathroom to finish her nightly routine.

When she exits the bathroom not even a minute later, he's passed out. Typical.

* * *

A low groan rumbles in his chest when Castle stirs late the following morning. At the sound, Beckett marks the page in the book she's reading and rests it out of the way on the nightstand. Her fingers twist in his hair, gently stroking as he's pulled back into the land of the living.

"Just let me die," he groans. The feather pillow muffles the long moan that follows. Beckett shakes her head at him, even though he can't see.

"You want an aspirin?" she asks him softly, resting her palm across the back of his neck.

He doesn't respond, already passed out once again.

* * *

When he rouses for the second time, it's just past two in the afternoon. Even with the hangover that's surely pounding in his head, Beckett can't believe he's slept so late. Castle's always been a late riser, sure, but anything past midday is unusual.

Taking a seat on the edge of the mattress beside him, she lays an open palm across his shoulder. "How are you feeling?" she murmurs.

"Like death," he rasps.

"I have a glass of water and an aspirin for you, if you can sit up? It should help with the headache."

He hums his appreciation as he rolls off his stomach and onto his side. Slowly, he manages to right himself, leaning back against the headboard and the pillows she fluffs for him. Wordlessly, Beckett opens her palm, revealing the tablet for him as she reaches for the water. Castle downs the tablet quickly, the water following in large gulps until the glass is dry.

"How are you so chirpy this morning?" he groans, squinting in the early afternoon light.

Becket levels a stare at him. "Unlike you, I didn't drink my bodyweight in eggnog."

He cringes. "I didn't embarrass myself too much, did I?"

She doesn't say anything, but her eyes avert from his.

"Oh, God- what did I do?"

She pauses for a beat. "Well, you performed what was quite a spectacular cover of Beyonce-"

Castle gasps. "I didn't."

"-and accompanied it with a _dance_," she continues.

Another long groan vibrates in his chest. His eyes slip shut in embarrassment, head dropping back as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "It's not on YouTube, is it?"

She chuckles. "I managed to delete the video Esposito took. The one on my phone, however- that's another story."

"Ka-_ate_," he whines. "Be nice. I'm sick."

"You brought this on yourself, Castle. Don't try and get any pity from me."

"So sympathy morning sex is off the table?"

She rolls her eyes. Such a man.

"A firm no on that one," she tells him. "Not until you down a carton of mouthwash, I'm afraid."

Pinching the rounded neck of his shirt, he lifts it to his nose, recoiling at the smell. "A shower doesn't seem like a bad idea, either."

"You want some breakfast first? I can cook up some greasy bacon and eggs to help with the hangover, bring it to you in bed?"

He glances at the bright red numbers on the digital clock before he shakes his head. "As nice as breakfast in bed sounds, we have somewhere to be."

"We do?"

He nods. "Ten days until Christmas. I need to give you your present for the day."

"Castle, we don't have to. You're not-"

"No, no. Everything is already organised. Besides, today was hard to organise. Ten lords-a-leaping doesn't offer many options."

She presses her lips together. "You sure?"

"Yes. Give me an hour to shower and wait for the aspirin to kick in, and I'll be good to go."

* * *

By the time they leave the loft, Castle is surprisingly much more alert. Still not his usual self, but it's a start. He'd never admit it, but he's getting older now. Can't bounce back quite as well from hangovers as he could in his twenties.

Having already called for a cab, the bright yellow car pulls up alongside the curb just as they step out of the building. The cold winter air nips at her nose, and Beckett ducks quickly into the car. Having forgotten her gloves, she rubs her hands together, hoping to create some friction from the heat. Castle slips in beside her, rattling off an address to the driver. It's not far from the loft- maybe ten minutes- but it's not one she recognises. When she arches an eyebrow at Castle, he does nothing but press his lips together, an amused expression on his face at her curiosity (and obvious frustration she has no clue what is going on).

A brisk Sunday afternoon, there's little traffic. When Beckett follows Castle out onto the sidewalk not ten minutes later, she glances up at the building in front of them. She can tell the rising stonework is an apartment block, the doorman dressed in a deep navy as he nods at Castle and holds the door for them. One again, Beckett sends him a look, but he simply ushers her inside.

"Okay, Castle. Are you going to tell me what's going on now?" she asks him as they stand inside the lobby. Castle turns to her, a secretive smile on his face, when they're interrupted.

"Mister Castle. Good to see you again," the middle-aged man greets him.

"Good to see you too," Castle responds with a smile. "Norman, this is my partner, Kate Beckett. Kate, this is Norman, the building's landlord."

Landlord. Lord. Clever.

Today's countdown is becoming a little clearer.

"Nice to meet you," Beckett shakes Norman's hand politely.

The landlord turns back to Castle. "I fixed the pipes underneath the kitchen sink this morning. Also, had a locksmith come 'round this morning to change the front door. You want a copy?"

Castle shakes his head. "Not unless I get permission from the tenant," he responds cryptically. "We'll let you go now. Thanks for stopping by."

Normal nods at them. "Have a good day."

Beckett presses her lips together as Castle takes her hand to tug her over to the elevator. She studies the lines of his face, but it's carefully masked. He's not giving anything away unless she starts prying.

"So, what's Norman's story?" she asks casually as the elevator begins to ascend.

"I'll admit- he doesn't really have a huge part in this. Except being a lord of sorts."

That doesn't help her at all. "And, where are we heading?"

Castle narrows his eyes at her. "Just be patient, would you," he teases. "Almost there."

She has to grit her teeth to hold back the onslaught of questions that bubble in her chest. Castle's lips twitch in amusement at her, but he doesn't say anything. At that moment, the doors part with a faint _bing_. Beckett follows him out of the elevator and down the hallway until they stop outside door number ten. It takes all her effort to keep a composed face and not question him again, but she manages, waiting semi-patiently with a jittery foot as Castle raps his knuckles on the door. She listens to the quiet clack of heels crossing the room inside, the dull clunk of metal as someone unlocks the deadbolt, before the door swings open.

"Martha?" Beckett gasps. "I- what are you doing here?"

"Oh, hello, darlings," Martha smiles warmly at them. With an open arm, she ushers them inside, but still stunned, Beckett doesn't move. No response from Martha, she turns to Castle.

"What's going on?" she asks him, voice hinting with a warning.

"This is Mother's new home," he tells her softly.

Beckett's face falls. "What?"

With a glance over the older woman's shoulder, she sees Martha's trinkets scattered around the apartment. The eclectic decorating style- multi-coloured cushions, vivid paintings, bright rugs- it's all so _her_.

"When did this happen?" Beckett asks.

"Just finished moving in yesterday," Martha tells her, slinking her fingers around Beckett's upper arm and tugging her over to the kitchen.

"Martha, I really hope this isn't because of me," Beckett starts. "I- I didn't drive you out, did I?"

The redhead shakes her head. "Oh, nonsense, dear. Not at all. Richard has been wonderful letting me live with him all these years, but it's time I stand on my own two feet again."

While Martha busies herself with retrieving a bottle of celebratory champagne and three flutes, Beckett sinks down onto a kitchen stool. She can't quite believe Martha has moved out, without giving her any notice.

"This was her idea, Kate," Castle tells her. His voice is soft, his hand gentle as it rests on her knee. It's reassuring, but the unease low in her stomach is still there. All the same, Beckett peers up at him to listen as he continues. "She came to me last month with the decision to start the new year in a new place. In exchange for helping her find this place, she let me incorporate it into the countdown. So today isn't about my mother. Today, I give you our own place."

Beckett presses her lips together. Giving them the freedom to be a real couple is wonderful countdown gift, but she doesn't want it if it's at Martha's expense.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Martha?" she asks again. "It's not too late to move back. You know we love having you there."

Martha shakes her head insistently. "Darling, this is fantastic. Besides, you two don't want me living with you forever. You need your space."

Beckett would never say it, but that is true. It's never intentional, but Martha had somehow made a habit of interrupting some of their more… _private_ moments. Still, she would never force Castle's mother out.

"You're _sure_?" Beckett repeats once more.

Martha slides two flutes of bubbling champagne across the bench top before holding up her own. "Of course. Now, let's celebrate! To moving forward."

Beckett smiles, but leaves her glass on the bench. She's not sure she can really celebrate this.

* * *

She's silent on the cab ride home, her head turned out the window away from Castle. In the elevator, he keeps his distance, standing at the front of the carriage while she leans against the wall. Beckett unbuttons her thick winter coat as he unlocks the door, hanging it up in the front closet without a word.

"Are you mad at me?" he asks quietly. Beckett turns, looks at him. He's still standing by the door, gloves on his hands and coat on his shoulders.

"Of course not," she responds immediately, but he sends her a pointed look.

"Kate, you barely spoke all afternoon, didn't even touch the champagne… are you _sure_ you're not mad?"

She shakes her head to reiterate her point. "No, Castle. I'm a little shocked- you _did_ kind of spring it on me, after all. But, it's all right. Really."

"Then why do you look like you're going to freak out at any moment?"

She bites her lip, ducks her head guiltily when she can no longer meet his gaze.

"I think I'm pregnant."

* * *

_A landlord and apartment ten._


	4. Nine

**Nine Days until Christmas**

* * *

Silence hangs over them as they sit side-by-side on the edge of the bathtub the following morning. The first day of the new working week, it's still early, and being winter the sun hasn't risen quite yet. The only light comes from the bright artificial light bulbs that line the top of the wide mirror. The air between them is tense, thick with the words neither of them want to speak. Instead, they sit and stare at the white stick perched on the edge of the sink.

A pregnancy test.

After her shocking admission of her belief the previous afternoon, Castle had left the apartment once again to head down the street to the local pharmacy. Beckett had wanted to take it the moment he walked back through the door, but he'd protested. Said the mornings are more accurate, that they should wait.

Needless to say, the anticipation had been eating at her all night, her stomach flipping as her mind raced and kept her up.

"How long have you suspected?" he rasps out.

She shrugs. "A while. A week, two."

His grip on the porcelain tightens, knuckles turning white. "You should have told me sooner."

"I've told you now."

"You should have told me sooner," he growls. "Kate, I- we're in this together. You shouldn't have been worrying about this for two weeks on your own."

She opens her mouth to say that worrying isn't exactly what she's been doing- contemplating, perhaps- but the timer on Castle's phone interrupts with a beep to alert that time is up.

"You ready?" she asks him.

He gives a nod.

Slowly, Beckett rises from the edge of the bathtub onto suddenly shaky legs. She doesn't move though, just stretches one arm out, fingers gripping the edge of the stick to lift it towards her. The breath in her lungs knots in her throat as her eyes flick down to the test in her hands to see-

Negative.

She's not pregnant.

The disappointment overwhelms her so suddenly, consumes her into a dark hole. It's too much, the onslaught of emotions too strong. So she shuts it down, blocks the negative test from her mind, and tries to leave.

"Work," she mutters. Beckett spins on the balls of her feet, ready to leave, when an arm snags around her waist. Castle's grip is strong, fingers digging into her hip as he tugs her backward, pulls her into the vee of his legs.

"You can't pretend like this didn't happen. We need to talk about this."

She stubbornly avoids his gaze. "There's nothing to talk about, Castle. I thought I was pregnant, but I'm not."

"Would it really be so bad if you _were_ pregnant?"

She flinches. "Be so bad?"

"You just… don't seem happy."

"Castle, if I was really pregnant, it would be _great_."

There's a beat, and then Castle breathes out slowly in understanding. "You wanted to be pregnant," he states.

She drops her head to press her face in his hair, breathing in the scent of spices that's so uniquely _him_. It doesn't soothe her, though. Salty tears spring to her eyes as Beckett sucks in a shaky breath. "Yes," she admits on a whisper.

"Oh, Kate," he sighs. "Just because it hasn't happened right now doesn't mean it won't ever happen. You know that, right? There's plenty of time for kids."

Her fingers curl, the tips dig into his shoulders as she clings to him. "I never wanted to be one of those woman that live and breath for children. That count down the years they have left to start having kids. But Castle, as every year ticks by, my chances become slimmer and slimmer, the risk of complications becomes greater. So yes, I'll admit it- there was a huge part of me that wanted to be pregnant."

His fingers trace up and down the ridges of her spine, sending a shiver through her body. Castle's lips find the exposed skin on her neck then, planting a hot kiss to reassure her when he can't speak.

"Do you-" she breaks off.

"What?"

Beckett shakes her head, tries to pull away again. "Nothing."

Hands falling once again to the small of her back, his grip on her in unwavering. "Kate, talk to me," he pleads softly.

Her voice almost breaks as she speaks. "Do you even want children?"

His answer is immediate. "With you? Of course."

* * *

Beckett tries to push down the disappointment that has come with the discovery she's not pregnant, but every time she glances over at Castle, it bubbles once again to the surface. So the moment he heads to the bathroom, Beckett slinks off to the break room, needing a moment to herself.

She doesn't get it. Castle is behind her in a heartbeat, hands on her shoulders as his lips press to her temple.

"Let's go home, Kate," he murmurs against her skin.

Beckett lets out a sigh but doesn't move. His breath is hot and enticing, washing over her skin, but it's only just past four. "I can't leave. Not yet."

"You're not getting any work done. You've just been staring absently at the computer all day until someone draws you from your thoughts."

She remains stubbornly silent.

"Come on, Kate. There's today's gift to attend. It'll take your mind off things."

She turns to face him then, eyes apologetic. "Castle, I appreciate the effort you've gone to, but I'm not sure if I'm in the mood for anything."

"It'll take you mind of things," he tells her softly, an insistent look in his eyes. "Let me just show you the gift, and then you can decide. If you're still not interested, we can pick up chocolate and wine on the way home and lounge on the couch in our pyjamas instead."

That pulls a soft chuckle from her. "All right," she gives in. "What have you organised?"

A small grin on his lips, Castle reaches ever so slowly into the inside pocket of his coat. As she waits, Beckett counts up the song in her head until she reaches nine.

_Nine ladies dancing_.

Just then, Castle produces two tickets. With hesitant fingers, she plucks one from his hand, reading the cursive writing printed in ink.

_The Nutcracker_, presented by the New York City Ballet.

"You told me last year how your mother used to take you to the Ballet every Christmas," Castle speaks softly. "I tried to get tickets, but by then it was too late, even for me. But I thought it would be nice if we went."

Oh, Castle.

A smile breaks out on Beckett's face. "This isn't really your thing, Castle. Are you sure you want to sit through a night of ballet?"

"Well, I never thought the ballet would be your thing, either, but Katherine Beckett is full of surprises," he grins at her. "And I know it's ninety dancers instead of nine, but I think the general idea is there."

Eyes lowering once again to read the script on the ticket, Beckett exhales a breathy smile. "Thank you."

"So, we'll go?" he asks, voice light and hopeful as he ducks his head to meet her eyes.

"Are you sure you want to sit through the ballet?" she questions again, front tooth digging into her lower lip with hesitance.

Castle drops a lingering kiss to her forehead, breath washing over her skin when he doesn't move away. "Any chance to see you all dolled up."

* * *

The evening, as it usually is when Castle wines and dines her, is wonderful. She fixes her soft waves into tighter curls, applies a coat of deep red lipstick and another layer of mascara for full effect. She slips into a fancy dress, one that elicits a groan from Castle when she's forced to cover it with a thick winter coat.

Castle offers his hand when they step out of the cab at the Lincoln Centre, helping to keep balance in her heels on the icy sidewalk. He orders them both a glass of red from the bar whilst they wait for the doors to open, keeping a loose hand around her waist _just because_. She presses her lips to his in a _thank you_ as the lights dim, letting him know exactly how much this gift means to her. Even when the graceful movements on the stage entrance her, she keeps her hand entwined with Castle's, unable to break connection with him even as she becomes mesmerised by the production.

All of it takes her mind off the disappointment of this morning. So when the lights slowly rise once again, she doesn't want to ruin the magical evening he's organised all for her. When he moves toward the cab rank, Beckett shakes her head in a silent protest. His forehead creases with a confused frown, but she simply presses her lips into a secretive smile and throws her head in the opposite direction.

He follows silently, keeping her hand clasped with his as she tugs him along the busy sidewalk. Of course, this is Castle, so he can't help but throw a few begging looks at her. Beckett simply chuckles as the desperation to just _know_ where she's taking him flickers in his eyes, but she doesn't reveal anything. It's only when she tugs him into a small desert shop a few blocks from the centre does she finally relent.

"We used to come here for hot chocolate after the ballet," she tells him, standing just right of the door to let other patrons enter behind them. "We'd huddle by the window, watch the people bustle outside, try and guess their stories and where they were heading. The years there was a light snow falling were the most memorable. We'd sit for so long just watching the powder fall softly from the sky, evaporating as it hit the sidewalk, not quite heavy enough to stick. Still, it was magical."

Beckett can see the fascination in his eyes as he listens intently to her tale, the joy flickering as she reveals another part of her childhood. Then, without a word, he leads her over to the counter, orders two hot chocolates (with extra marshmallows, of course), and sits them at a table in the back by the window.

She can't help the smile that breaks out on her face. It's met by Castle with a smile of his own, his teeth sparkling as he drags the second chair from the opposite side of the table around to press up against hers. He shifts in his chair so he's half-facing her, snakes both hands around her waist and digs his fingers gently into her stomach to tug her backwards. She goes willingly, letting herself fall against his chest, her head lolling to the side against his cheek.

"One day," he whispers ever so softly into the shell of her ear, "You can bring our own daughter here, continue this tradition with her. I promise you, Kate."

The vision of a young girl dressed in a deep purple trench coat much like her own, her glossy brown curls thrown over her shoulder and bright blue eyes beaming up at her as she sips at a cooling hot chocolate, is suddenly all so clear.

* * *

_Nine(ty) ladies dancing._


	5. Eight

_**A/N:** Just note this was written before _Secret Santa_ aired._ _Some minor details have been changed to fit the episode, but others aren't quite in line. Shouldn't take away from the overall enjoyment.__  
_

_Kelli_

* * *

**Eight Days until Christmas**

* * *

Beckett tries (and fails) not to let the longing image of a young girl, a mix of both her and Castle's features, plague her mind. There's so much ground still to be covered before they should even begin thinking about children- marriage, to name just one step. But try as she might, the young girl dances around in her mind all day, beaming the brightest smile as her sweet voice calls for _mama_.

She knows Castle can tell exactly what's on her mind. She can't keep the small, wishful smile off her face, the giddy and hopeful feeling in her stomach bubbling up. He hovers over her, brings her a constant stream of peppermint mochas (_for the holiday season, Kate_, he tells her), keeps her full with the last of the Christmas cookies he baked only a few days before.

He doesn't say anything, though, leaving her so entirely grateful. Any words from his mouth will just remind her of the disappointing realisation she's not yet pregnant, that the image of a family she wants so desperately might still be years away. She's not sure how to cope with that reality just yet, so instead she loses herself in her mind until Castle literally drags her away from her desk.

"Time to go home, Kate," he tells her as he wheels her chair (and her seated self) backwards. Beckett growls, trying to plant her feet into the hardwood floors, fingers reaching uselessly for her desk. It's to no avail as Castle simply spins the chair around and tugs her in the opposite direction. His usual ridiculous self, he doesn't relent until she jumps up herself to give him a hard jab to the chest.

"I have paperwork that needs finishing," she hisses at him, yanking her chair from his grasp and wheeling it back to her desk.

"Alexis is meeting us outside any minute now," he starts. "From there, it's a fair journey- maybe up to an hour if the traffic is bad- and we'll want to get there before-"

He stops himself quickly, almost ruining the surprise.

"Before _what_?" she asks, her eyes narrowing in a warning.

With the power of his Christmas gift behind him, it seems he's become immune to her threatening looks. Castle simply mimes zipping his lips shut. "Nothing. But, we do need to go," he insists, making a show by tugging up his long sleeves to glance down at his watch.

"Castle, I have paperwork," she reiterates, throwing a look at the large bundle that only keeps growing due to the holiday period.

"So bring it home."

Beckett pauses. He _never_ lets her bring paperwork home. Says her job needs to remain at the precinct; that they shouldn't bring all this horror into the sanctuary of their home.

"I-" she starts, voice cutting off in disbelief. She pauses to study him carefully for a long moment before conceding. "I suppose it'll hold till tomorrow," she says slowly.

To that, Castle breaks out in a smile. Unable to handle rejecting him and whatever he has planned for today, she leaves her files on her desk without so much as a glance, grabs her coat, and follows him to the elevator.

"So, does this have something to do with today's countdown?" she asks, tone light with curiosity.

His eyes dart over to hers for a mere second before they flick back to the metal doors in front of them. So it does, she notes. He's just being… secretive.

When the doors part, Beckett steps into the elevator without a protest. If she's being completely truthful, she can't help but wonder what he has in stall for today. After all: eight maids-a-milking? She really has no idea what he can do with that.

* * *

In the elevator, Castle slaps her hand away when she reaches for the button to the basement.

"What are you doing?" she asks.

Castle shrugs casually. "We're not taking your car."

Beckett arches an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Your car isn't… right. For what we need," he comments secretively.

She nods slowly, trying to piece the puzzle together, but coming up with nothing but a blank board. "Okay. So, how are we getting to… wherever it is we're going?"

Her question is answered the moment they step outside the precinct. Across the road is a parked silver SUV, one that flashes its lights and beeps when he clicks the remote key in his pocket.

"You bought a new car?" she gapes.

With a quite chuckle under his breath, Castle shakes his head in protest. "It's a rental, just for the night."

Beckett rolls her eyes. When he had time to sneak out of the precinct and pick up a rental car she has no clue. "What's wrong with the three cars we already have?" she pries, still hoping for a hint as to today's gift.

"Don't want them to… scratch."

"Scratch?"

He nods.

Beckett crosses her arms stubbornly, unamused with all the secrecy now. "Castle, where are you taking me?"

Castle chuckles again. "_Relax_, Kate. Stop being such a control freak."

Beckett shoots him a warning look but holds her tongue, knowing any argument from her will just prove his point. Instead, she stalks across the street, ducking between the oncoming cars as she heads for the SUV. Crossing onto the other sidewalk, Beckett finds Alexis already waiting for them, leaning against the back door. Beckett greets the redhead warmly, asks how her day has been, hoping to work up to the questions she's dying to have answered. But Alexis simply sends her a knowing look.

"Sorry, Kate, but my lips are sealed," Alexis tells her regretfully.

Beckett elbows Castle in the ribs before he has another chance to laugh at her.

* * *

She steps out of the car slowly, slamming the door shut behind her as she takes in the land ahead of them.

"A Christmas tree farm," she states. "This is what you refused to tell me about?"

"Anyone would think you don't know the concept of a surprise," Castle says, smirking at her as he wanders around the hood to stand in front of her.

She rolls her eyes at his comment and forces the corners of her lips to remain in a straight line instead of twitching upward. "So, what's the plan here? Eight trees for eight days left until Christmas?"

He scoffs. "We live in Manhattan. Where do you think we'd fit eight Christmas trees?" Castle questions her line of thought.

Thankfully, his daughter is more sensitive to Beckett's frustration arising from a lack of awareness of Castle's plan. "We're here to pick out an eight-foot Christmas tree," Alexis explains. "We usually put up a tree a little earlier than this, and it's usually a little taller, but it tied in well with the countdown."

"You mean, your dad couldn't think of anything else for eight maids-a-milking, could he?" Beckett laughs knowingly.

Alexis just presses her lips together secretively, ignoring Castle's protests when they chat as if he isn't standing right beside them. When his quiet grumbles fill Beckett's ear, she turns to him, giving his shoulder a gentle shove before her fingers slink along the length of his arm to curl around his elbow.

"Come on, you sook," she murmurs. "Let's go pick out our Christmas tree."

* * *

She hadn't helped Castle and his family decorate the tree last year. Even six months into their relationship, she'd been hesitant about the idea of spending Christmas with him. She had her own traditions to follow, and so spending the holidays with him had been a last minute decision.

Over the course of the past year, though, everything has changed. She's finally stopped keeping one foot out the door. She's moved in with him. Grown closer with his family. And just yesterday, she told him she wants children with him.

Still, Beckett doesn't want to overstep. Castle may have invited her to help pick out a tree (without any sort of knowledge on her part, she should add), but this _is_ their first real holiday season. First of many, she hopes, but the first nonetheless. She doesn't want to intrude on the traditions they've established over the years. So she stands back, feeds the rope of lights to Castle as he swirls it around the branches, passes Alexis ornaments in the number-ordered boxes rather than hanging them on the tree herself.

It's a slow process, each ornament apparently having its own special place on the tree, almost as if the decorations tell a story. Beckett can tell the child within Castle is bubbling with excitement, his face lighting up as he recounts the tale of how they purchased each different ornament. Each one means something special- maybe a piece they collected whist travelling, or a gift from father to daughter or vice versa- rather than simply purchasing them in a generic box of fifty. It puts a smile on her own face and so she listens, pats his hand as he grips at hers in the midst of a story.

Eventually, though, the box of decorations at her feet empties, all decorations now on the tree. With a smile on her face as she hangs the last snowflake on the tree, Alexis shuffles back to admire the tree from a distance. With her hands on her hips, she studies the twinkle of each decoration before shooting Beckett a smile.

"Ready to turn on the lights?" Beckett asks.

There's no response from either Alexis or Castle.

Beckett spins around in search of Castle, who has somehow slipped out of the room without her noticing. Her eyes run along the gaps in the bookshelf, watching Castle as he retrieves something from the lowest drawer in his desk before he joins them once again.

"Not quite done," he speaks, holding up a half-worn cardboard box in his hands.

Beckett doesn't need to open the box to know the contents. Her eyes are wide and shining with a sudden prickle of tears as she stares at the box, watching it move slowly closer to her with every careful step Castle takes.

"Castle…" she whispers, her hand rising to cover her mouth as she exhales a long, steady breath.

"These are for you to hang on our tree," Castle says quietly.

He offers her the box then, waiting patiently when she doesn't move to accept it. Beckett presses her lips, eyes tracing over the worn edges for a long minute before taking the box hesitantly from his hands. She stares down at it for a long moment before her head slowly shakes.

"Castle, I can't," she breathes. "Your tree-"

"Is just as much yours as it is ours," he cuts her off smoothly. His eyes flick over to Alexis, who nods in agreement at Beckett. "Kate, hang your mother's ornaments on the tree."

Drawing in a long breath of air, Beckett shifts the box back into Castle's arms. His eyes flash with concern for a moment, the thought that he's upset her surely crossing his mind, but then her slender fingers begin to peel off the worn duct tape that seals the lid shut. The top flaps of the box open with ease, revealing the crystal ornaments sparkling from where they rest on the soft cotton.

"Your father wants you to have these, Kate," Castle says softly when she does nothing but stare at the decorations. "He said- these were your mother's favourites. _Your_ favourites. The ones your mother collected when she was a child, long before she met your father, back when she still held her maiden name."

Oh. Maiden. Maids.

Castle has incorporated her mother into her countdown.

_God_, she loves him.

Her attention is re-drawn to Castle when he tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, pushing back the curtain that's drawn over her face. "Your father wants your mother's decorations to hang on a tree with you," he whispers.

With shaky hands, Beckett slowly lifts her hand to reach into the box, her long fingers grasping the first ornament. A glass bauble, with her mother's name and birthdate inscribed in elegant cursive writing, given as a present to her mother for her very first Christmas. As her fingertips trace over the curve of each letter, a sweet smile breaks out on her face in memory of the Christmases she once spent with her mother. With her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment, Beckett presses the ornament over her heart.

"Castle… thank you," she whispers joyfully.

Fingertips running through the silky strands of hair that hang at the side of her face, Castle drops a lingering kiss to her forehead. "Merry Christmas, Kate."

* * *

_An eight-foot Christmas tree and her mother's ornaments._


	6. Seven

**_A/N:_**_ I don't think I mentioned it before now, but I'm on tumblr if anyone is interested - kellisworld dot tumblr dot com - Come join me :)_

* * *

**Seven Days until Christmas**

* * *

Beckett wakes early on Wednesday morning, the alarm clock blaring as it drags her back into consciousness against her will. She slaps a hard hand down on the top, the clap that resonates startling as she searches for the snooze button. Beside her, Castle groans, his complaint half-muffled as he buries his face into the feathery pillow.

"Make it stop…" he drags out. The rumble in his chest vibrates against her hand when she slaps it against his back to shut him up.

"You're so uncaring when you're tired," he can't help but comment.

It earns him a swift kick to the shin.

Castle lets out a yelp, but seems to have learnt to keep his mouth shut. He says nothing further, and when she doesn't injure him any more, he manages to drift asleep once again.

Unlike Castle, Beckett forces herself off the mattress, kicks her legs out the side and plants them on the floor. She rubs a hard knuckle across the back of her eyelids, scrubbing away the last traces of sleep she'd much prefer to cling onto. On shaky legs, she stumbles into the bathroom, throws her body under a cold blast of water to wake herself.

Once showered, dressed, and filled with a large mug of double-shot coffee, Beckett pads quietly back into their bedroom. Castle is still asleep, lying on his back but head tilted to the side. His breathing is light, chest rising and falling only ever so slightly as the air breezes through his slightly parted lips. His face is slack with sleep, hair falling over his forehead, transforming him into a younger version of himself. Beckett pauses for a moment beside the bed, not wanting to disturb his sleep, but not wanting him to wake to an empty bed.

Her fingers brush softly through the hair at his temple as she leans down to whisper in his ear. "Castle?"

He stirs slightly at the sound of her voice. "Mhmm?"

"I'm heading to the precinct," she murmurs. "Don't worry about coming in. I'll text you later if we catch a case."

"M'kay," he sighs.

He's asleep once again before her lips fall to his forehead.

* * *

After a full day of nothing but paperwork, she's drained and yet completely restless at the same time when she wanders into her home that night. Dropping her keys into the bowl beside the door, they clang against the two other sets. Beckett makes a note that both the remaining occupants of the loft are home, but when she glances around the open layout, her eyes don't catch any movement. Soft music floats down from the upper level, signalling Alexis is home but most likely dressing before heading out with friends for the evening. As for Castle, she doesn't know.

Kicking off her ankle boots, Beckett pads silently in her socks passed the sofa and peeks her head into Castle's study. Still, his presence is not to be found. She frowns. When he didn't come into the precinct today to annoy her, she'd figured he'd taken the day to write. Now, though, the usual tapping of Castle's fingers against his keyboard can't be heard, no sight of him in his usual perch behind his grand wooden desk.

Beckett moves passed the rising shelves of books then, heading for their bedroom. The door is ajar, swinging silently on its hinges as her palm eases it open. There's no time for her to take even one step into the room before Castle appears from the bathroom, a welcoming smile on his face.

"Just in time," he says as he crosses the room.

"What did you get up to today?" Beckett asks, tilting her head as his lips drop to hers for a delicate kiss.

"Writing," he explains. As she'd assumed.

"Must have been some chapter. My phone didn't chime once." She shoots him a look, both of them knowing full well he doesn't leave her to work in peace when he's not at the precinct.

"Be honest. You missed my messages," Castle teases her, sliding a warm palm up her arm to curl around her shoulder.

He really should expect the scoff he receives at that comment.

"Putting that aside," Castle starts, fingers pressing against her shoulder blade to encourage that she move forward, "It's time for today's gift."

Beckett's lips curl upwards, her eyebrows rising on her forehead. "Yeah?"

He nods, urging her to take another couple of steps forward. "The first year we worked together, you told me the holidays were always the hardest. That after a long year, people snap. Cases are long and messy, force you into working overtime to provide families with justice. So, tonight is all about unwinding."

It's only then does she realise Castle has led her into the bathroom.

The lights are off, the room bathed in a warm glow from the flickering flames of dozens of candles. With no bubbles in his tub, she can see the steam rising off the water, wrapping around her skin like a warm blanket. Perched on the edge is a full glass of red wine, matching the colour of the deep crimson rose petals that float atop the water. Last of all drift seven paper swans, each one a crisp white and carefully folded as they swim around the tub.

Seven swans-a-swimming. Clever.

"How long did it take you to fold those?" Beckett can't help but ask as she eyes the origami.

There's a pause. "Don't look in my trash can."

She chuckles.

"My terrible origami skills aside," he ignores her laughter, "This is only the beginning. After relaxing your muscles with a long soak in the bath, you'll be served your favourite lobster ravioli, followed by homemade- and may I say, _exquisite_- tiramisu. But- the pampering doesn't stop there. Just before the evening is over, you'll be treated to a very special, very _sensual_ massage by _yours truly_." Castle's voice dips low at the end, blue eyes dark and piercing. The offer may be enticing, but Beckett can't help but shake her head.

"Oh. So this is a gift for _you_," she drags out, voice light with amusement.

He jerks back at that, the mood broken. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that you can't finish a back rub without expecting sex."

"I- that- no," he stumbles. "That's not true."

She hums, but rolls her eyes. "Yeah, well, I'll believe it when I see it."

Beckett doesn't protest any more though, just lifts her fingers to begin working on the buttons of her coat. They slip out of each hole quickly, and she presses the fabric against Castle's chest for him to take. He looks down at the coat in his hands, as if wondering just what to do with it, when her blouse suddenly slides off her shoulders and she hands that to him, too.

He stands frozen as she undresses, taking each new piece of clothing from her as she reveals more skin. By the time she's completely bare in front of her, Castle is openly gaping, eyes long dropped from her face. With a smirk, she slips away from him, sliding ever so slowly into the tub until the burning water consumes her. Only then do his eyes lift to meet hers.

"I- I'll start on dinner," Castle gulps, taking another long look at her before shuffling out of the bathroom, her entire outfit in his hand. When the door clicks shut behind him, Beckett exhales a long, peaceful sigh. The water works at the knots in her muscles immediately, and so, with a long sip of wine, she relaxes. Lets her eyes flutter shut and sinks further down into the water until all her worries are washed away.

* * *

Fluffy white towel wrapped around her body, Beckett stands in front of the bathroom mirror, fingertips sweeping across her face. She has to admit the bath did wonders, and the salts she'd found lining the far side of the tub by the wall were invigorating. They'd bubbled against her skin, rejuvenated her muscles, worked away the tension. Now, staring at her reflection, she doesn't look quite so exhausted, as if the long year has been cleansed off her.

Scrubbing the last dirty remnants of the day's makeup off her face, Beckett splashes another handful of fresh water on her skin. After patting her face dry, she twists her towel-dried hair around her finger, looping the strands over until she wraps a band around the knot and leaves it up in a bun. She knows she'll regret it in the morning once it's dried and knotted and resembles a lion's mane, but right now her mind is a blissful sea of nothing. Tomorrow's hair is future Beckett's problem.

She pads out barefooted into the over-sized walk-in-wardrobe that adjoins the bathroom. Exhaling a long breath, Beckett simply stands there for a moment, too lazy to dress. But from the kitchen she hears the faint _bing_ of the oven timer, signalling dinner is just about ready. Any moment Castle will come and find her, so she may as well be ready. She dresses casually- an old knitted sweater and a pair of yoga pants. Warm after her bath, she foregoes socks, leaving the bare soles of her feet to hit the cool hardwood floors. Wandering out into the living room, she sees he hasn't bothered to set the dining table. Instead, the candles that light the room rest atop the coffee table, accompanied already by two glasses of a deep red wine.

"Put your feet up," Castle calls out softly to her with a nod toward the couch. "And have a drink. Dinner will be just a moment."

With a smile, she complies.

All this pampering is something she could definitely get used to.

* * *

Beckett can't help but let another long moan vibrate through her chest.

She's lying face down on the sinfully soft sheets of their bed, head resting on her crossed arms, her back bare and exposed. Castle looms above her, his fingertips warm as they dig into the muscles of her back. Covered with oil, they sweep effortlessly across her shoulder blades, work at the knot at the base of her neck before trailing down either side of her spine. The pressure he applies to her lower back is perfect, so completely relaxing as he works out every last ounce of tension in her body.

When his finger slink around to her sides to barely brush at her stomach, she hums again. His hands slide up the length of her sides, then down along her arms and back again, digging and twisting as they move. But when his fingertips return once again to her shoulders, their movements begin to cease ever so slowly, the pressure he applies to her skin slacking.

"You're not going to make it, are you?" she asks knowingly.

There's a pause. "Ah- no."

Typical man.

She shakes her head at him before rolling over, exposing her bare front in the process. "All right. Let's go."

* * *

_Seven swans-a-swimming._


	7. Six

**Six Days until Christmas**

* * *

Her daily gift already awaits her when she first wanders into the living room the following morning. When Castle found time to put it out, she doesn't know, but the excitement bubbles inside her all the same. Still dressed in her pyjamas, she tubs her fluffy white robe a little tighter around her body, wiggles her feet a little further into her slippers before kneeling down before the gift. At the base of the Christmas tree they decorated just two days before sit six plush toy geese. Their bodies are a perfect white, their feathery wings tucked back along their bodies, their beaks and webbed feet a bright orange. Each one sits atop a small brown nest, twisted together with fake twine. Hiding beneath each geese body, resting in the nests, she can see what appear to be seven bright gold eggs.

Six geese-a-laying.

"Have a look," Castle's voice calls sleepily from somewhere behind her. Still kneeling on the ground, she angles her head around.

"I thought you were still sleeping," Beckett murmurs. "Didn't mean to wake you."

He shakes his head, rubs a hard knuckle across the back of his eyelid as he tries to wake. "Y'didn't," he yawns, mouth widening and lungs expanding as his brain wakes.

Castle shuffles over to her then, the soles of his slippers scratching across the hardwood floors as he drags his feet. His eyes are bleary, only half-open as he peers down at where she sits, but they're insistent.

"Have a look underneath them," he says again.

Beckett nods and twists away from him to face the six plush geese once again. Her left hand stretches out, reaching for the goose that sits furthest left and rests atop two gold eggs when Castle coughs an interrupting cough behind her. Her hand freezes mid-air as she arches an eyebrow at him. He doesn't respond, but his eyes shift towards the goose at the opposite end of the line. Beckett presses her lips together and silently retreats her left arm, noting the small nod Castle gives at the action. She then reaches out for the goose on the far right, throwing an _is this okay?_ look at Castle before finally plucking up the goose to reveal the gift that lies below.

It's not an egg. Rather, it's a deep gold Christmas bauble. At the top is a length of gold lace ribbon, the two ends tied together so the decoration can hang from the tree. But it's the side of the ornament that is the most impressive, the intricate light gold engraving embellishing the ornament, a bold number six and a picture of six geese to represent today's countdown.

"Castle, this is gorgeous," she breathes in wonder. Her touch is careful as she picks up the gift from the nest, her fingertips running along the image etched into the bauble. "I- thank you."

He simply smiles at her and nods at the geese that still guard their nests. "Have a look at the rest."

With careful hands, she replaces the gold bauble in her hands so it sits in its nest once again. Then, she carefully plucks up the next goose. Another deep gold bauble sits beneath it, intricately engraved with a large number seven and the image of seven swans to represent yesterday's gift. With encouragement from Castle, she removes each goose to reveal a bauble representative of each day's countdown, from six geese-a-laying up to twelve drummers drumming.

"These really are gorgeous, Castle," she restates.

He bends down to press a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm glad you like them," he murmurs. "You'll receive another one each day to complete the set."

Face lifting as a smile breaks out on her face, Beckett rises to slink her arms around Castle's waist. "Thank you," she whispers. Then she slants her lips across his to thank him properly.

"Breakfast?" he asks when they break away to the sound of Alexis' door opening on the upper level of the loft.

Beckett nods, padding quietly over to the kitchen. "After seeing what I thought were eggs, I'm feeling an omelette."

Castle grins and curls his fingers around the doorhandle of the fridge, intent on quickly pulling it open when she slams a warning hand against the door. The smile slips off his face, a crease appearing between his brows as he frowns.

"After your… _creative_ omelette last week, I think I'll make breakfast," she warns him. One at a time, she unplucks each of his fingers from the stainless steel handle.

He grimaces, presses a tender hand to his stomach at the memory of leaning over the toilet surely flashes through his mind. "Uh- yeah. Okay."

* * *

Castle frowns at her when she wanders out of the bedroom and into his study an hour later. "I thought you weren't working today?" he questions her, his eyes running over her business attire.

"I wasn't," Beckett responds with a sigh. Coming to stand beside him, she brushes her fingertips through the hair at his temple before letting her hand fall to cup his neck. "But Karpowski's team caught a new one last night. Thought I'd head in and help them out, hopefully give the family the answers they deserve before Christmas."

He nods in understanding as he slinks an arm around her waist. She shifts to stand between the vee of his legs, leans against him as his fingers drum against the small of her back. "You want me to come in with you?" he offers. "I can be ready to go in ten minutes."

Beckett shakes her head. "Thanks, but I'll be doing the boring stuff. Financials, phone records… just any bits and pieces to help out their team. Get the work done quicker. _Much_ quicker than if you were there, too."

Castle doesn't object. They both know it's true.

* * *

Beckett draws her coat tighter around her body as she leaves the precinct later that day, ducks her head against the icy breeze that's picked up. With only helping out from her desk for the day, there hadn't been a need to drive to the precinct this morning. She'd taken the subway instead, but now she's regretting that decision. The wind whips into the underground station, curls around her bones even through the layers she's wearing.

It's only early afternoon, but there's still a crowd on the platform. The train arrives within a minute, and she quickly ducks in through the parting doors, thankful for the reprieve from the harsh weather outside. It isn't long before the train is stopping at her destination, and she jumps off, follows the crowd up and out of the station to the main street.

Where she finds herself is far from home.

That she was heading into work wasn't a total lie, but just how long she'd planned on being at the station is something she'd kept to herself. So right now, she emerges out and onto Madison Avenue. Around her, the shop-front windows are elegantly adorned for the Christmas season- lights, moving displays, toy Christmas characters, and fake snow all greet her. This is exactly where she needs to be.

Beckett had ordered Castle's main gifts weeks ago (and they have been sitting at Lanie's apartment ever since), but she saw last year just how important the holidays are to him. The excitement bursts in his eyes like a child every time he catches glimpse of the decorated city, and so this year she's decided to fill up an over-sized Santa sack with little gifts for him to open on Christmas morning. And judging by how much he and Alexis love their ridiculous onion goggles, she knows unusual gadgets are the way to go.

With a list of everything she wants to purchase for him already in her hand, the shopping trip doesn't take long. She walks away not an hour and a half later with two arms weighed down by bags full of odd knick-knacks. Probably more than necessary, but Castle has gone to so much trouble to organise the twelve day Christmas countdown that she can't help herself.

There are the samurai sword chopsticks, and the water balloon style Russian roulette.

There's a new iPhone case decorated like an old book, and a miniature lamp that turns off when you shoot it with a remote gun.

There are gingerbread men cookie cutters in the shape of ninjas, a snowball slingshot, a switchblade bottle opener.

A joined scissors and spatula set to cut and serve homemade pizza, silicone guards for the oven racks (because he _always_ forgets oven mitts), and a waterproof notepad for the shower.

There's even an appliance to make corn dogs at home, because Castle whines that carnival food should be enjoyed all year round.

Everything ends up weighing a tonne, but aside from the corn-dog machine (which might have to be wrapped as a separate gift) it should all fit into the large Santa-style sack she's bought. For now, though, she lugs everything over to Lanie's apartment to wrap in the same red and gold gift-wrap as his other presents.

When she makes it home before six, Castle is giddy with joy at her presence. His eyes light up and a smile cracks out on his face as he quickly shuffles over to greet her. She returns the smile with a wide one of her own, presses her lips to his when he tugs her into an embrace. And with a quick flick of her eyes to the Christmas tree as they head for the kitchen, Beckett can't help the bubble with excitement in her stomach for Christmas Eve when Castle can finally open all the presents she's bought for him.

She really can't wait to see the smile on his face.

* * *

_Six geese-a-laying._


	8. Five

**Five Days until Christmas**

* * *

Castle is already awake and has taken to staring at her when she stirs early Friday morning. With a sleepy crease of a frown on her forehead, Beckett yawns and stretches her arms high above her head, trying to wake her mind and her muscles. Through bleary eyes, she peers up at him as she mumbles. "Time is it?"

"A little after six," he responds, dropping a kiss to her forehead. "Still another fifteen minutes before the alarm is set to go off."

With a sleepy sigh, Beckett lets her eyelids flutter closed. "Then why are you awake?" she asks. "Time for today's present?"

She hears him chuckle softly, feels the vibrations in his chest as he draws her close. She hums, snuggles closer. December is cold, and he's warm. He's better than a comforter, like her own personal electric blanket she can wrap around her.

"Not yet," he finally whispers his response. "Saving that for tonight."

Beckett hums again. "Then sleep."

They do.

* * *

"All right you two school girls- what's going on?" Beckett snaps.

She's completely passed amused with their behaviour. Ryan and Esposito have been sneaking glances at her all day, peeking around corners and peering up over their computers. Each look is followed with a secretive whisper, which is (of course) in turn followed with another look. Now, a flick of her eyes to the clock on her computer tells her it's almost five, and after eight hours of their odd behaviour, she's sick of it.

"Nothing," they chant simultaneously, eyes lowering hastily to the files on their respective desks. Even so, she narrows her eyes at them, so when they glance up another moment later she's ready with her threat.

With a quick kick of her heels against the old precinct floorboards, Beckett rolls back in her chair just enough to give her space between herself and the desk to rise and stalk over to the boys. Her heels click angrily against the floor in warning, both Ryan and Esposito shrinking down in their seats at the sound. She comes to a stop in the centre of their desks, arms folded across her chest and a demanding eyebrow arched on her forehead.

"What's going on?" she growls at them.

With one last glance at each other, they finally look up at her. "You seem a little… edgy today," Esposito comments lightly.

"Yeah," Ryan agrees. "Maybe you should go home."

"Relax."

"Take the weekend off."

"We can hold down the fort."

"No need to come in."

Beckett's eyes narrow in suspicion. "Is Castle planning a weekend away?" she asks, eyes shifting between the two of them. "Is that what this has been all about? Did he tell you to kick me out of here by a certain time?"

She has to give them credit- there's not one tell on either of their faces. Still, they don't deny it.

"Go home," Ryan says again in encouragement, waving her away. "We'll see you on Monday."

"Maybe after Christmas if no body drops," Esposito adds.

"Dude," Ryan calls out, slapping an open palm onto his desk in frustration. "You had to jinx it, didn't you?"

Esposito lets out an embarrassed snort. "Jinx? What are you- twelve?"

Beckett stalks away then, her eyes rolling at the two partners bickering like schoolchildren. But with no paperwork left, she takes their advice. Grabs her keys from her top drawer, shrugs her coat over her shoulders, and slides her phone into her pocket before heading out for what will hopefully be a blissful weekend before Christmas with no calls from dispatch.

* * *

Beckett is suspicious the entire drive home, and stuck in classic Manhattan traffic, her mind has time to wander back over the past week. Considering she lives with Castle, there has been nothing spectacularly out of the ordinary, nothing to suggest he's been planning something grand for the weekend. No accommodation confirmations lying around, no clothes missing that he may have packed, no hint they'll be spending the next few days anywhere but their apartment.

Her fingers drum against the top arch of the wheel in frustration when she can't quite pinpoint what his surprise is, and why the boys sport such mischievous grin. Still a few blocks from the loft, she gives up. She'll know soon enough. Letting it out of her mind, she turns up the Christmas carols that play across the radio. A cover of _All I Want For Christmas Is You_ by some new artist she doesn't know is just finishing its last notes, quickly followed by the radio presenter's voice to fill her car once again.

"_I hope everyone out there has finished their Christmas shopping. With just five days left until Christmas, the last-minute rush has began, the fighting over the last gift in the store-"_

But Beckett isn't listening anymore.

Five days until Christmas. Today is five days until Christmas. And that means-

Five golden rings.

_Rings_.

Castle-

He isn't. No. He-

Is he?

Her heart starts to beat erratically in her chest, thumping against her skin as it tries to burst from its cage. She can hear the blood rushing through her ears as the adrenaline shoots through her veins. Her left foot taps on the mat, her tooth digs into her lip, eyes dart around as she tries to find _any _escape from the traffic that's suddenly boxing her in. But there's nothing. No path out, nothing left to do but sit in the traffic with her skin scrawling in suspense.

By the time she pulls into their street, Beckett is ready to jump out of the car and make a dash for it. She doesn't bother heading the extra few blocks to the parking garage. Instead, she swerves her car into the first spot on the sidewalk she sees. The snow can freeze the windscreen all it wants. She doesn't care. Just jumps out of the car, barely managing to grab her bag before she takes off in a half-sprint for their building.

The people on the sidewalk refuse to part for her, the ride up the elevator to her floor too long. With shaking hands, her fingers fumble with her keys, and it takes her more than three attempts to finally slide the key into the lock.

"Castle?" she calls out desperately on a pant the moment the door wings open.

The desperation in her tone doesn't quite translate though, Castle's own voice soft as he responds from the bedroom. "In here."

She throws her keys somewhere at the table beside the door, the clatter of the metal against the hardwood floors telling her they didn't land in the bowl. Right now, though, she doesn't care. She simply dashes for the bedroom, not even bothering to unbutton her coat as she all but bursts into the room, the longing about to bubble out of her chest.

At the sound of her hasty footsteps, Castle pokes a head out from the walk-in robe, an eyebrow arched at her behaviour.

"I want my gift now," she blurts out.

Castle stares at her blankly as he takes a step out from behind the wall. "I'm sorry?"

"My gift," she repeats. "I want it now."

Suddenly, his movements slow. Careful eyes roam over her frame, taking in her edgy posture, noting the excitement that shivers out because she can't quite contain it.

"Now?" Castle asks again, voice quiet but steady.

Exhaling a long breath, she gives him one nod.

In that moment, the entire world stops spinning around them. The traffic outside disappears, the buzz of the television in the next room is silenced, every single dust particle floating in the room freezes mid-air. There's nothing but the two of them standing at opposite ends of the bedroom, eyes locked with one another as their breaths rush in and out of their lungs in short bursts.

And then Castle nods.

"I-" His voice chokes, and his eyes lowering when he coughs to clear his throat. "I did have five golden rings for you," he starts off slowly, voice softer than she's ever heard it. "Costume jewellery. Nothing- nothing fancy. But, I think this is the one you're looking for."

Out of the bottom curve of her eye, Beckett senses movement. Slowly, she lowers them, her pupils tracking Castle's every movement as his fingers disappear into the right pocket of his slacks to pull out a deep blue square jewellery box.

A ring box.

Even though she's already figured it out, Beckett sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of it. The small box makes everything suddenly real. As she continues to stare, the reality settling in, Castle crosses the room slowly, but not hesitantly. His fingers trace along the edges, waiting patiently until he can't any longer.

"It's not gold, but…"

Between his thumb and his forefinger, Castle pinches the sides of the box and tugs. The box opens on its hinge with a soft click, and Beckett gasps.

It's beautiful. A sparkling diamond engagement ring. Princess cut. Elegant, but nothing outlandish. The perfect engagement ring.

_Her_ ring.

When Beckett finally manages to draw her eyes away from the sparkling ring in his hands, Castle's bright blue eyes are boring into her. They're so intense, hold so much love. She's never seen a look so powerful, and it stops her heart, curls a ball tight in her stomach.

"Marry me?" he whispers.

It's a long moment before she can find her voice.

"Yes."

* * *

_A diamond engagement ring._


	9. Four

_**A/N:**__ I know some people sing this part as 'colly birds' rather than 'calling birds', but I've taken the liberty of using what I believe is the more modern verse (or at least the version we sing where I'm from). Hope this doesn't ruffle any feathers._

* * *

**Four Days until Christmas**

* * *

After a late night (and waking Castle many times during the night), Beckett doesn't stir until nearly midday on Saturday. As with the previous day, Castle is already awake, her head tucked against his chest as it rises and falls with his paced breathing. She angles her head slightly, presses an open kiss to the base of his neck as she slides a foot up his calf.

"Morning," she calls softly to him.

Castle tugs his arm around her waist a little tighter and drops a kiss to her forehead. "Morning."

Beckett twists then, throws a leg over his hip to straddle him. Castle grins at her from below before swiftly rolling to pin her to the bed beneath him.

"We're engaged," she smiles, throws a glance down at the diamond sparkling on her left hand.

"Katherine Beckett… if everyone could see the sappy smile on your face right now, they would be shocked."

She doesn't respond. Just slides her long fingers around his neck to pull him into a long kiss.

* * *

They don't make it out of bed for hours, keeping to themselves in their own blissful bubble as they tangle in the sheets. The loft is silent, and the traffic outside doesn't make it into their awareness. Everything is peaceful as they lay beside one another.

"So- spring wedding? Fall?" Castle questions.

Beckett shoots him a look to pipe down. "Give me at least a few days to adjust," she snorts. "No need to rush down the aisle. People will think-"

People will think she's pregnant.

But she's not.

The disappointment is sudden and completely overwhelming, hits her just as hard as the moment it did when she'd first laid eyes on the negative test. Her body stills as she refuses to let it shake, her eyes dropping to the bed as she ducks her head. Castle presses a hot kiss to her shoulder, brushes his fingertips over her flat stomach. "One day, Kate. I promise."

One day can't come soon enough.

* * *

Castle doesn't let the negative test she'd taken just days ago affect their celebrations. He draws her back out of the mood that settles over her, cracks jokes, forces her lips up with his fingertips when she doesn't smile. Then a real smile breaks out on her face, and when she presses her lips to his in a _thank you_, she pushes him down to the mattress once again.

After another round, Castle declares it's time for breakfast. He goes about fixing them some French toast with fresh berries, pours too much maple syrup over the egg-bread as per usual, and delivers it to her to eat in bed. It's not the easiest thing to eat in bed, the plate wobbling with many near misses with dripping syrup, but they manage. When they finish, Castle returns their plates to the kitchen and cleans up the pan before sliding back into bed beside her, throwing back the quilt for only a moment to settle himself. When he's finally satisfied and pressed up against her side, he slides a warm, open palm over her thigh and gives a gentle squeeze.

"Ready for today's gift?" he asks.

She blinks, dazed. "Castle- you didn't have-"

Castle swiftly cuts off her protest. "Yes, I did," he insists. "The ring wasn't even supposed to be part of the countdown. It was just… something I weaved in. Part of the Christmas magic."

"You didn't have to use Christmas to convince me, you know?" she comments.

"Ah, but it was fun."

Beckett gives in to the hopeful smile on his face. "All right," she concedes. "What have you got?"

With a flash of his pearly whites, he twists his body to pull open the drawer beside his bed. It's another square jewellery box, albeit large than the one that held her engagement ring the night before.

"First… this was supposed to be yesterday's gift," he explains. He opens his palm then, leaves the box sitting in an offer for her to take. She complies, plucks up the box and pinches the sides to pull open the lid.

Inside she finds five rings, all gorgeous, the gold bands sparkling up at her in the afternoon light. They're not costume jewellery like Castle said, but they're nothing outlandish. Each band simply twists in different patterns, creating a different illusion for each ring, simple enough to permit her to wear them to work if she chooses.

"They're gorgeous," she breathes out slowly.

Castle shrugs off the compliment. "They're nothing. Not compared to the ring on your finger."

Beckett grins at him, kisses his cheek with an open palm. "They're beautiful, Castle," she repeats.

Her fingernails scratch gently at the stubble beginning to grow along his jaw. Castle doesn't notice. He's already plucking the box from her grasp against her will, setting it down on the bedside table before reaching for the next gift. Out of the drawer come two round spheres wrapped in a crimson tissue paper. Beckett smiles, already knowing what is hidden as Castle passes her the gifts.

They're two deep gold baubles, each one extravagantly decorated to represent five and four days remaining until Christmas. Five golden rings, and four black calling birds, each one also engraved with a large number to signify the day.

And then all too soon Castle is plucking those too from her hand. Finally, he hands her today's gift. It's nothing more than a thin gold envelope, her name scrawled across the front in a dark fountain pen. His shoulders bump up and down with excitement as he passes her the envelope. She takes it with careful fingers, turning it over in her hands and running her fingertips along the edges, studying it for clues that it doesn't hold.

"Open it," he prompts her.

She does. Wedges her thumb underneath the flap and unsticks it. Inside is nothing more than a piece of cardboard, and when she pulls it out she finds a small cut out in the bottom left corner.

Beckett's brows knit together in confusion. "What is it?"

"It's an international sim card," Castle explains, pointing to the small font around the edge. "Actually, it's the packaging for an international sim card. The card can be used for calling."

Four calling birds. _For_ calling.

Clever.

Beckett cracks a smile.

"Right. And who am I supposed to call with this?"

"Your father."

Beckett pauses.

"Even though you and your father don't usually speak at Christmas- with him heading up to his cabin and you pulling the Christmas shift- there's some news to be shared. But seeing as he's broken his tradition and flown out of the country, you don't have a way of calling him that's cheap. So, I bought him an international sim card to take with him. He's going to call later today, around four."

"Castle-" her voice breaks, the thoughtfulness of Castle's gift welling in her eyes. "Thank you."

"Just be thankful I didn't set up the video connection I was originally planning," Castle starts, a mischievous yet proud smirk on his face. "Don't think your father would appreciate the massive hickey on your neck."

* * *

True to Castle's word, her phone chimes at two minutes past four that afternoon. Beckett quickly snatches up the phone as it vibrates across the coffee table but then pauses her thumb mid-air above the screen.

"Does he-"

"Know I was planning on asking you to marry me?" Castle finishes for her. "Yeah. When I first started looking at ring designs, I stopped by a jewellery store just a few blocks from his law firm. He saw me enter the store, thought he'd follow in and say hello, only to find me peering over the ring cabinet."

Beckett presses her lips together, considering his story, when Castle's knee nudges against hers.

"Answer the phone," he prompts her.

Right.

She quickly swipes her thumb over the screen and raises the phone to her ear. "Dad?" she answers.

"_Hey, Katie_," her father's voice responds over the line. "_How are you?_"

"Good," she says secretively. Keep her father guessing, seeing as he hadn't dropped her one hint of Castle's plan. "How's your trip?"

There's a pause before her father responds. "_Uh, yeah. It's- good_," he trips over his words. "_How's New York_?"

"Cold," she shoots back. "Be thankful the weather is warm in New Zealand."

"_Doesn't really feel like Christmas though without the bitter chill_," Jim comments. "_So, anything exciting happening for Christmas? Any surprises_?"

Beckett hums in consideration, presses a stopping hand onto Castle's bouncing knee. "Well, Castle actually baked Christmas cookies last week," she says lightly, raising her eyebrows at him to teach the man a lesson. "That was-"

"Oh, would you just _tell_ him already?" Castle's sudden whine cuts her off. Beckett shoots him a look, but can't stop the corners of her mouth twitching upwards and cracking out into a smile.

"_Something you want to tell me, Katie?_" her father questions with a chuckle.

She rolls her eyes at both Castle and her father. "I think you already know, but Castle and I-" She sucks in a deep breath, covers Castle's hand with her own gentle one. "We're going to marry."

She can almost hear her father beaming across the phone line. "_Congratulations, Katie_," he tells her sincerely, voice warm with happiness and pride. "_I'm so happy for you_."

Beckett sends Castle a sappy smile, nudges his shoulder with hers as her heart swells in her chest. "I am, too."

* * *

_Five golden rings._

_An international sim card for calling._


	10. Three

_**A/N:**__ Just FYI- I don't understand US shoe sizes. Google failed me, so feel free to correct me if there's a massive mistake._

* * *

**Three Days until Christmas**

* * *

When the Sunday before Christmas rolls around, Beckett sleeps in late. Castle left hours before for breakfast with Alexis. Without him to kick her in his sleep, or wake her when he's bored, the loft is peaceful. Quiet. Something that's rare in Manhattan. So she holds onto the last remnants of sleep, keeps them in her grasp. Rolls back over every time she wakes, burrows into the cocoon she's made herself out of the thick comforter.

She's still in bed hours later when her ears prick up at the sound of keys jingling in the lock. The door is quiet as it swings open, but Alexis' laugh carries through the high ceilings of the loft. Then comes Castle's deep laughter, which bounces off the walls, echoes through the cracks in the bookshelves.

"I'll go find Beckett and then we'll leave," she hears Castle call out to Alexis.

Just before the bedroom door swings open, Beckett lets out a disappointed sigh.

Peace and quiet is over.

"You're still in _bed_?" he exclaims.

She hums. "Sleeping."

His footsteps are quieter then as he treads carefully over to the bed. "Are you feeling all right?"

Beckett chuckles, cracks open an eyelid. "Yes. Just easier to sleep in when there's not someone tapping your shoulder when he can't find the chocolate chips."

Castle scowls. "I was going to make those chocolate chip pancakes for _you_," he defends his actions.

"Could have made them for me once I was awake."

"Then it wouldn't have been a surprise."

"It wasn't a surprise the moment you woke me to ask where the chocolate chips were," she shoots back.

Castle presses his lips together, defeated. "All right. Point made," he says with a sigh. "Do you want to keep sleeping?"

She shakes her head. "No. It's 'kay," she yawns. "You obviously have something planned."

He shrugs. "No specific time. Just whenever you're ready."

Beckett throws back the comforter then, shivering for a moment at the sudden rush of cool air against her skin. "Want to make me a sandwich while I shower?" She throws him a smile and bats her eyelids for good measure, trying to convince him.

"Turkey and salad okay?" he questions.

She nods and leans in for a good morning kiss.

* * *

"You realise there probably won't be a wedding to hold if you take me out there?"

They're currently standing outside the gates to the ice-skating rink at Rockefeller Centre. Through the crowd Beckett can see the figures fly by as their skates cut through the ice. The apprehension twists in her stomach in reminder of the last time she'd been here. It had been just weeks before her mother's murder, and she'd spent most of the day picking herself up off the ice only to fall back down in the next second.

"This is the perfect way to work up an appetite," is all Castle says.

"For what?"

"For tonight."

She hums. He's not giving away any of his secrets.

"Whatever you have planned for tonight, I hope it won't be ruined when I take a tumble and we have to head to the emergency room," she tries to talk him out of it.

"Oh, shush. You'll be fine."

Damn.

Beckett remains silent as they wait in line to hire skates. Her eyes track the movement on the ice, watching the techniques of the more advanced skaters. The bending of their knees, the shifting of their bodies as they swivel from side to side to move forward, the way they lean into each turn. She tries to commit it all to memory so she can attempt to imitate their actions when she's out there.

"Beckett?" Castle calls out suddenly. She twists her head, seeking him out in the direction of his voice. "Skate size?"

She shakes her head. "I don't know."

"Usually one and a half sizes down from your normal shoe size," the man behind the counter comments.

"Then- uh, seven?"

The man nods, takes only a moment to retrieve a pair of old grey skates from the rows. With their skates already in their hands, Castle and Alexis move towards the benches lining the rink. Beckett follows and takes a hesitant seat beside them.

"I'm surprised you two don't have your own skates," Beckett comments lightly as she unzips her ankle boots.

"We do," Alexis says. "But Dad didn't want to ruin the surprise."

"More like he wanted to force me into this," Beckett mutters under her breath.

Castle sighs, clamps a pausing hand over hers as she moves to pull off her shoe. "Kate, if you really don't want to go out there, you don't have to," he tells her. She looks up, finds honesty in his eyes, but his expression is crestfallen. She's not going to be the one to keep that look on his face by ruining this surprise. After all, it's only _ice-skating_. There are worse things he could have chosen as a surprise.

"No," she says, even though it goes against what her mind tells her. "It's all right. Just don't expect any spectacular twirls from me."

With too much wiggle room, Beckett ends up having to exchange the pair of skates for a half-size down. She returns a minute later to find Alexis already skating around the rink, but Castle still sitting patiently on the bench for her.

"You don't have to wait for me," she tells him, but he shakes his head insistently.

"I want to see what you're like out on the ice," he explains with an amused smile.

She scowls. He wants to watch her fall down.

When she finally laces her skates tight around her foot and ankle, Beckett takes Castle's extended hand and he helps tug her to her feet. Legs that are usually steady in supporting her weight now shake beneath her, throwing her weight around. The problem only worsens the moment she takes a step onto the ice, the skate almost sliding out beneath her until she half-falls and manages to wedge herself between Castle and the wall.

"Oh, this is even better than I imagined," Castle chuckles under his breath. From her position half-strewn over him, Beckett manages to thrust an elbow into his side. He lets out a groan at the contact, doubles over, causes her to slip further down the wall toward the ice.

"Castle," she strains out in a panic.

Still wheezing dramatically, he nods, slides his arm around her waist and tugs her upright. When he's satisfied she's on steady legs again, Castle lets go, leans away slightly. Beckett sways and grips onto the wall, her fingers white as they dig into the metal frame.

"You ready to move?" he asks her.

Beckett doesn't answer. Just carefully slides a foot forward, keeping an unwavering grip on the barrier as she does so. When she doesn't fall, she slides her foot a little further forward.

And then she _does_ fall.

Castle is bending beside her immediately, but she pushes his helpful arms away. She can do this on her own.

"You know, you have to move _both_ feet, not just the one," he comments in regards to the splits-like position she's currently stretched in.

She throws him a look to _shut up_, but he doesn't. Just smirks and keeps close as she carefully makes her way around the rink. Her lips press tight together in concentration as she twists her hips, slides one leg forward at a time. Her progress is slow, each movement carefully measured (though that doesn't always help in her efforts to not fall down). It _also_ doesn't help that she hasn't done this in nearly fifteen years, not since her mother last brought her here. And like this day, that day all those years ago had also resulted in her tumbling to the ice more times than she can count.

"I don't understand how you can run in those four-inch spiked heels of yours but you can't ice-skate," Castle's teasing voice sounds in her ear.

"Castle, if you're not going to help me, then go away," she growls.

"I _am_ offering to help you," he rebuts, waves the hand in front of her face he's had extended the entire time. "_You_ are too stubborn to accept my help."

"That's because I know you'll just drag me into the centre of the rink and leave me there with nothing but a laugh."

He arches an eyebrow at her. "Would I really do that?"

"Wouldn't you?"

He would. They both know it.

Even though she knows exactly what he's playing at, the teasing is endless. Castle's voice relentless in her ear as he chuckles in amusement before darting away. Then one time he's too slow, doesn't move away quite fast enough before he receives a hard shove to his shoulder and he topples down with a dramatic cry.

(Of course, it ends in _her_ falling to the ice, too).

* * *

As she'd suspected from the hint Castle had dropped about _working up an appetite_, her surprise for the day is an evening out. For dinner, they end at a small French restaurant across town, all dolled up for a three-course meal. As Beckett slides into the seat he holds out for her, she sends Castle a grateful smile. The restaurant is beautiful, elaborately decorated with small cast-iron table and chairs, vines rising up the walls, elegant brass lamps hanging from the ceiling. Even though they dine indoors, it all captures the feel of Paris, settles a romance in the air.

Having pre-organised their table God knows how long ago, there's no need to order their meal or wine. Just wait for the staff to deliver everything once they're ready. After toasting to the evening, Castle finally slides the small gold box he's been carrying since they left the loft across the table. With a grin, her fingers immediately curl underneath the lid to pluck it off the top and reveal the gift inside.

Another gold bauble, engraved with a large number 3 and an image of three hens, a ribbon tied at the top so the decoration can hang off a branch on their Christmas tree. Beckett smiles warmly at Castle, slides a hand across the table to rest tenderly atop his. Her thumb brushes over his knuckles, sweeps across his skin before she laces her fingers with his.

"Thank you," she murmurs.

His bright blue orbs shine in response.

* * *

Their meal is nothing over the top, but exquisite all the same. A small ratatouille for appetizers, duck a l'orange for the main course, and a creamy vanilla crème brulee for desert. By the end of the evening, Beckett regrets her choice of dress. She's so full- satisfied, but full- and her stomach is surely rounding. So she quickly tugs on her coat and ties the belt instead of buckling it, hiding the evidence of the meal they've enjoyed.

Even with the deep red coat wrapped right around her body, there's a chill that pricks at her, causes her skin to shiver with goose bumps. With a light snow now starting to fall outside, they hurry into a cab. The heating can't keep up with the cool weather outside, leaving them both shivering on the ride back. Castle scoots across the seat, huddles close to her. Any chance he can get, really.

"You going to hang the decoration?" Castle asks when they finally wander back through their front door.

Beckett sends him a dazzling smile, moves straight for the Christmas tree. "Of course," she murmurs.

Scooping the bauble out of the box with one finger hooked around the ribbon, she strategically places it around the far side of the tree. It sits after the decoration for _four calling birds_, which in turn hangs after the previous day. _To tell a story_, she told him the day she'd first received the decorations, when she'd hung them in descending order from twelve drummers drumming down to the six geese-a-laying she'd received at the time.

"Did you enjoy today?" he asks her as they lay in bed that evening.

She nods, curls into him, presses a hot, open kiss to his jawline. "But for the record? There are better ways to work up an appetite."

He hums. "Care to show me?"

She does.

* * *

_Three courses of French cuisine._


	11. Two

**Two Days until Christmas**

* * *

Beckett goes against the boys' suggestions and heads into the precinct when Monday rolls around. The sun not rising until later in the mornings now, daylight is only just beginning to crack through the clouds when she swerves her car into its usual parking spot. As they'd made a detour along the way so Castle could jump out and pick up two fresh coffees, she now clasps the paper takeaway cup between her two gloved hands and takes a long sip as they move through the underground parking structure. The moment she steps off the elevator and into the bullpen, there's an outburst. Her two partners yell at her, trying to shoo her away. They tell her they'll hold down the fort and cover for her, remind her of how she wasn't supposed to come in today, but she shoots them a warning look to shush.

"Guys, I'm not going to leave you to do all the work around here," she tells them. Without pause, she pushes past them and heads for her desk in the centre of the bullpen.

"But Beckett-"

"You may as well give it a rest," Castle's voice calls out from behind her, a nagging undertone to it. "I tried all last night to convince her not to set the alarm for this morning, but nothing I did could persuade her. She's Beckett. She's stubborn. May as well give in now and save yourself the trial."

Beckett presses her lips together, forces herself not to turn around and shoot another warning look at Castle. Instead, she keeps her composure and puts distance between herself and the boys. She's completely intent on ignoring them, but even with the tapping of her heels against the wooden floorboards she can still hear their insistent whispers to Castle.

"So, did you-"

"Did he what?" Beckett spins around suddenly, confronts the boys head on.

Esposito and Ryan fall silent and shoot each other a look as they chant a simultaneous response. "Nothing."

Beckett clicks her tongue, raises a demanding eyebrow as she waits for them to disperse.

They don't. They persistently remain by Castle's side, as if waiting for the moment she turns away.

She doesn't move, either. Just narrows her eyes at them as her fingers begin working at the buttons of her deep purple coat. "You know," she starts off slowly, "I seem to recall leaving here early on Friday afternoon with the promise of having a weekend away. Care to tell me why you boys lied to me?"

Ryan's cheeks tinge pink as he ducks his head sheepishly. "Uh- well, technically _we_ never said anything about a getaway," he stumbles over his words.

Unlike his partner, Esposito isn't fazed by the warning tone lacing Beckett's voice. "Yeah, Beckett," he backs up Ryan. "That was all your conclusion."

Her coat slides off her shoulders then, and Beckett throws it over an arm. She nods absently, as if she's considering a point in her mind. "So then _why_ did you usher me out of here so early in the afternoon?"

At that point, her fingers pinch the tips of her gloved hands. She starts with her right glove, plucks it off and frees her hand in one smooth motion. The action catches the boys' attention, their eyes zooming in on her left hand expectantly as her right hand grips the ends of her slender fingers to tug off the glove and-

Nothing.

No ring.

The boys are dazed for only a moment before they shoot Castle a questioning look. He's pointedly keeping his gaze away, as if trying to get them to _drop it_ if he doesn't respond. But from where she stands, Beckett can see an amused twinkle in his baby blues.

She'd thought it would be fun to mess with them. Her father may have found out about the ring by chance, but in an effort to ensure she'd be home with enough time to spare, Castle let the boys in on his plan. She's not mad. Not at all. Just- having some fun.

"Something you want to share with the class, boys?" she interrupts when the two partners begin whispering behind Castle's back.

They freeze. "We were just wondering what Castle's countdown gift was on Friday if it didn't turn out to be a weekend away?" Ryan asks slowly.

"I thought you _knew_ it wasn't a holiday?"

Ryan gulps. "Uh, yes. But-"

"But?" Beckett presses.

"Nothing," Esposito cuts in, smoothly saving Ryan. Then he grabs his partner by the shoulder and pushes him away.

Beckett doesn't move, but her eyes track the boys' trail as they scurry off to the break room, no doubt to throw around their thoughts about a lack of engagement ring on her finger. When her eyes finally slide to the front of her face once again, she finds Castle standing tall in front of her.

"That was mean," he comments.

She shrugs, spins away to head for her desk. "That was also fun."

He doesn't disagree.

Taking a seat, she scoots her chair forward so she's tucked underneath her desk. Her hand stretches toward the computer, holding down the _on_ button until it whirrs to life. The department lacking money in its budget to upgrade, her desktop is dated. It takes a long few minutes to kick to life, so Beckett takes the opportunity to sneak another sideways glance at the break room.

Ryan and Esposito are huddled together, peeking through the half-open slats in the blinds and pointing to where she sits. Of course, they're also too busy whispering conjecture to one another to notice she's watching them.

"When are you going to tell them?" Castle sounds out beside her.

* * *

Beckett twists her head, a mischievous smile curling up on her lips. "Don't worry. You won't have to lie to your girlfriends for too long," she teases before giving a real answer. "We'll tell them before the day is over."

She's sitting in the break room a few hours later and tapping out a long message on her phone when Castle slips with ease into the seat beside her. His actions are smooth, making no noise as he moves. The only reason she even notices his presence is because he's suddenly pressing up against her side and tapping an insistent finger on her thigh.

"Can I give you today's gift?" he whispers in her ear. His breath is hot on her neck, his lips grazing her skin. She shivers in delight, and has to clamp down on the sudden longing that flushes through her.

"Yeah," she eventually breathes.

Castle doesn't give her space, keeping the electricity sparking between them. Just plucks a piece of paper from the pocket inside his coat and slides it across the table to her. It takes all her will to draw her eyes away from Castle's piercing blues and fall to the gift. As her fingers grasp the edges to raise the paper off the table, his voice sounds once again.

"My gift the other day may not have been a weekend away, but-"

Beckett finally reads Castle's neat script on the thin sheet in front of her.

_I.O.U. - Two first-class tickets to the Cayman Islands_.

She arches an eyebrow. Aside from _two_, she doesn't see how this plays at all into the countdown. "The Cayman Islands?" she questions. "You plan on committing a crime? Need to hide away in a non-extradition country?"

Castle grins, but doesn't give in to her teasing. "Aside from being well-known for housing fraudulent activities, the Cayman Islands are a place where, amongst snorkelling in the clear blue waters, midnight walks on the balmy beach, and _other activities_ under the stars-" he dips his voice, waggles his eyebrows, "-we can also see the hatching of baby turtles."

Beckett lets out a surprised breath. "Turtles?"

He nods.

"Not going for _doves_?" she questions, keeping her tone serious.

He stares deadpanned at her. "Do you really want to go bird-watching?" There's nothing but disdain for the activity in his voice.

Beckett scrunches her nose. Not in the slightest.

Her eyes flick down once again to the note in her hand. "So- I.O.U.? You haven't booked anything yet?"

He shakes his head. "No. There's only a small window in which we _can_ go, but I didn't know what dates you can get off work."

"You know," she starts, her voice low as her two brown eyes drop down to Castle's lips for just a moment, "If the dates don't work out for this year, we can always go next year and make it our honeymoon?"

"A _honeymoon_, hey?" Ryan's voice sounds loud behind them.

Beckett and Castle spin in their chairs at the table to find the floating heads of both Ryan and Esposito poking around one side of the door each. Judging by the grins they sport on their faces, it's obvious they've been listening in on their conversation.

"You know, it's rude to eavesdrop," Beckett shoots them a warning look.

Esposito shakes his head, her threat not fazing him in the slightest. "Don't think you're getting off the hook that easily, Beckett. What's this I hear about a honeymoon?"

She hums. "A honeymoon is typically the vacation the bride and groom takes after a wedding," she tells them dryly.

Ryan raises an eyebrow. "So, there's going to be a wedding?"

Beckett opens her mouth, a quick comment on the tip of her tongue when Castle's fingers dig sharp into her thigh. "Just _tell_ them, already," he pleads.

She shakes her head. "There's no doubt in my mind you already know, but yes. There will be a wedding."

Ryan gives the reaction she expected. He pumps a fist in the air, muttering an _I knew it_ under his breath as he wears a smile on his face. Esposito, on the other hand, scowls.

"Damn it," he groans as he slips a twenty from his pocket and into Ryan's hand.

Beckett growls, the rumble vibrating threatening through her chest. "You actually bet on whether I'd say yes or not?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Ryan scoffs. "We bet on whether Castle would chicken out."

* * *

_Two first-class tickets to see the hatching of baby turtles._


	12. One

_**A/N: **__This final part is something I changed after watching _Secret Santa_. Enjoy._

* * *

**One Day until Christmas**

* * *

It's Christmas Eve. The weather outside is bitter, winter long having settled in. Even so, the city looks like something out of a Christmas movie. There's a light snow falling down past the window, the white snowflakes twirling as they fall. Not heavy enough to stick, but enough to put an atmosphere in the air. The lights of the city shine, twinkling like the stars that can't be seen high above them. There's little traffic, little noise, everyone in the city already at home with their families to celebrate the holidays.

Inside is warm, the extensive heating keeping up with the chill outside. Even so, she wears fluffy red socks on her feet that match her knitted red sweater. The wool bundles around her, traps in the warmth. It's cosy, almost as cosy as the comforter that lies atop their bed, just waiting for her to crawl underneath it and snuggle down for the night.

But not yet. There's still a tradition to be carried out.

"Kate?"

Castle's soft voice draws Beckett from her thoughts. She twists her neck, angles her head as she peers at him. He's bathed in the warm glow from the lights swirled around the Christmas tree, shadows dancing across his face as the lights flicker.

"Are you ready to go?" she asks him.

Her fiancée shakes his head. "Not quite, but-"

He holds up something in his hands. Her eyes fall down, running over the round edges of the tissue-paper covered gift. Twisted high up into the air, the wrapping is tied shut with the same red and gold ribbon he'd used on the first day of this elaborate countdown. The combination of the shape and the ribbon signals it's today's ornament. She smiles, walks slowly toward him, plucks the round gift from his hand before he can attempt to whisk it out of her grasp. Tugging at the end of the ribbon, the tissue paper falls away easy to reveal the final bauble. A number one engraved on the deep gold ornament, complete with a partridge sitting atop a tree, decorated with tiny pears.

_A partridge in a pear tree_. The final day of the countdown.

"Thank you," she whispers. With no heels on her feet, Beckett rises to her tiptoes to level with his eyes before she presses a long, soft kiss to his lips. His hands rise to her neck, strong as they cup her head and angle it back for better access. Her mouth parts willingly, and she falls into his body without hesitation. Her fingers dance up spine, drawing him even closer.

"Feel free to thank me any time," he breathes when they finally break away.

Beckett cracks a smile on her now swollen lips, digs a tooth down into her lower lip to stop the grin from bursting on her face. Slowly, she slips away, hangs her ornament on the tree to complete the set. In the reflection of the Christmas lights hung all around the apartment, her gold ornaments shine as they tell the story of this second Christmas they've spent together.

The second of many they _will_ spend together.

"So- the final gift?" Beckett questions suddenly.

Castle presses his lips together secretively and shakes his head. "I think I'll save the reveal for later. Long night ahead of us."

* * *

They arrive at the precinct before six that evening, the sun throwing a few final deep purples across the sky as it dips further below the horizon for the night. With his family, they'd enjoyed an early dinner at the loft before parting ways for the evening. Martha headed back to her new apartment to celebrate with theatre friends, Alexis caught a cab to the airport to visit Will in London, and Castle and herself had driven to the precinct.

They'd come to a compromise. Last year, they had honoured his tradition. Spent Christmas Eve at his loft, surrounded by his family and the Christmas village that had somehow been established in his home. This year, they'll spend the evening at the precinct, or out on patrol as needed, to honour her own tradition in the memory of her mother.

Tonight, they will keep watch over their city.

Their coats remain bundled tight around their bodies and scarves tucked close against their necks for warmth even as they step off the elevator and into the bullpen. The precinct is old, the heating temperamental at best. The cold winter bite has been lifted from the air, but it's far from warm in the building. As Beckett drops her bag beside her desk, Castle moves straight for the cappuccino machine to prepare two steaming lattes to spread warmth through their bodies. She follows quickly behind him, seeks out the warmth.

* * *

Now, the bullpen is nearly empty, her colleagues having left long ago to spend the evening with their families. In the centre, though, sit a group of those remaining to work the Christmas shift. It's an odd mix of both rookies and seniors, but they all find company with one another for the evening.

There have been no calls. Nothing yet to happen in their area of town that requires police assistance. It's a relief, knowing the residents of the city are at home enjoying the holidays with one another rather than having their hearts broken at the news of hearing a loved one won't be making it.

At the moment, Castle is in the break room. He's on the phone with Alexis, listening as she tells him her flight is about to board. Beckett knows he hadn't liked the idea of Alexis spending some of Christmas day alone on a plane, but the girl had insisted. She'd wanted to spend Christmas with both her father and her boyfriend, and so she'd compromised with a long flight to make just that happen.

With a quiet _excuse me_ to the group, Beckett crosses the room to seek out Castle. With flat boots on her feet to protect against the icy weather, her footsteps are soft as she pads underneath the doorframe to catch the tail end of his conversation.

"All right. I'll let you go," he says. "Merry Christmas. I love you."

Castle clicks off the line the, but doesn't turn around to face Beckett just yet. So she moves to him, wraps both arms around his waist and presses her face into his shoulder.

"You okay?" she asks.

He nods. "Yeah. Just-"

"I know," she finishes for him.

He misses his daughter. She's heading across the ocean to spend the rest of the holidays without him. She can't even begin to comprehend how hard it must be for him to spend the first Christmas apart from his daughter, so she just stands with him, comforting him, until he catches he's ready to keep pressing on with the night.

"Ready for your gift?" he eventually asks her.

Beckett leans away from him and sends him a dazzling smile. "Of course," she responds quickly.

His eyes light up as he begins to speak. "I thought long and hard about what today's gift should be. A bird. A pear. A tree. A box set of old The Partridge Family re-runs. Any or all of the above, but nothing quite suited the tone of this evening. Then I began thinking about your mother. How you spend every Christmas Eve keeping up this tradition to watch over New York, keep the city safe. So- this is what I came up with."

Castle hands her nothing. Just takes a breath before continuing with his piercing eyes locked onto hers.

"This gift has nothing to do with the song, but rather to do with your own tradition for Christmas Eve," he explains. "I have decided to donate one hundred thousand dollars to the New York City Police Foundation. So, as you all serve to keep the city safe, _you_ are also remaining safe."

Beckett's mouth parts and her eyes widen in surprise as the air leaves her lungs. "Castle, I- that's so generous," she breathes.

He simply smiles at her, ducks his head in modesty. It's not something that's often seen on Castle, but it always appears whenever the situation is _real_. Her hand reaches up to splay open across his cheek, fingers sweeping gently across his skin as she leans in to press her lips to his in a long kiss.

"You're a wonderful man," she tells him.

It's nothing but the truth.

* * *

Dawn is just starting to break when Castle and Beckett wander back through the front door to their home. Their feet shuffle across the hardwood floors with exhaust as they force themselves to keep moving just a little longer. They move straight for the bedroom, tugging off their coats in response to the warm air swirling through the loft, such a stark contrast to the chilled wind that's picked up outside. After kicking their shoes underneath the bed, neither bother to peel the clothes off their bodies before slipping between the heavenly soft sheets.

Beckett hums in contentment as she rests her head, her eyes already fluttering with sleep. She has to return to the precinct tonight, keep watch over the city again so everyone else can spend Christmas night with their families, but she holds out on sleep for just a moment longer. Her hand snakes across the sheets, seeking out Castle's warm body, curling up next to him when she finally finds him.

"Thank you," she breathes, presses a soft kiss to his jawline.

"For what?"

"For being here. For honouring my own tradition at Christmastime. For making this a Christmas to remember," she tells him. "Thank you."

Castle smiles at her and drops a lingering kiss to forehead. She tucks in against him, a content smile on her own lips as his breath washes over her skin when he speaks.

"Merry Christmas, Kate."

* * *

_A one hundred thousand dollar donation to the NYC Police Foundation._

* * *

_**A/N:**__ Unfortunately, that's it for this story. I toyed with the idea of writing Christmas day, but the countdown has ended, and I felt the story should too. So thank you for your wonderful support. This would not have been the same without all your comments. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it._

_As mentioned, I'm taking a break from here for a few weeks. Will be heading away in a few days for NZ, to be back after Christmas. You can stay tuned on my tumblr (kellisworld dot tumblr dot com) to find out what & when I'll be posting next._

_Thank you._

_Kelli._


End file.
